Imperius
by Jess Pallas
Summary: “Imperius…Werewolves…You Know Who…” The last words of a dying man force Remus Lupin into a dangerous investigation at the infamous Feral Institute. Sequel to Oblivious although prereading isn’t vital.
1. Necessity

**Imperius by Jess Pallas**

**Disclaimer**: This is the house that JKR built. I am merely squatting. I do however claim squatter's rights over anything not canon.

**Summary**: "Imperius… Werewolves…You-Know-Who…" The last words of a dying man force Remus Lupin into a dangerous investigation at the infamous Feral Institute. Sequel to _Oblivious_; pre-reading would useful but it isn't vital.

**A/N**: This fic is a chronological sequel to my previous work _Oblivious_ and does contain several of the original characters created for that story as well as referencing its plot on occasion. However _Imperius_ is also a story in its own right and much as I would love you all to go and read _Oblivious_ too, it isn't absolutely vital that you do so. If you do want a clearer idea of some of the background behind characters and events mentioned here but don't necessarily want to read _Oblivious_ in its entirety (I would understand, it's a hefty story!) I recommend that you simply read _Chapter 6_ (_The Werewolf Lesson_) for an understanding of the important lycanthropy-related background information that will be very useful to know and _Chapter 15_ (_Into The Woods_) for a rough guide to some significant Lupin family history. The _Epilogue_ would also be enlightening if not vital. Links can be found on my profile.

I'm hoping to post a chapter a week but I can't make any cast iron promises. I haven't been at all well since last February (which is why this sequel has been so long in coming) and as a result, I simply can't write at the kind of pace that had me polishing off two chapters a week last year. I'm afraid at times you may just have to bear with me. I like writing fic but I'm not going to make myself worse over it.

I'm reckoning this fic will have somewhere between 25 and 30 chapters. Anyone who knows me will realise that means we're probably looking at a fic that will rival the proportions of a full set of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. ;)

I am aware that in starting this fic so close to the release of Half-Blood Prince, I am rendering this work AU pretty much as soon as I begin. But even though I am fairly sure that unless JKR has been living secretly in my head recently, the events of _Oblivious_ and _Imperius _will not be ratified by HBP, I hope that continuing and enjoying this fic in spite of AU-ness will not be too much of a stretch. We'll have to see. :)

_**1: Necessity**_

The tumble of rain beat down upon the sloping tiles, trickling nosily into the battered guttering before cascading into the dirty alley beneath in a string of waterfalls more heard than seen against the darkness. Torches spluttered against this assault from the heavens, their light waning damply against the vastness of the cloudy black. Even the denizens of Knockturn Alley, who did much of their best business by the cover of night, had not ventured out this evening.

Hunching his shoulders against the creeping wetness that was permeating even his thick hooded cloak, Kingsley Shacklebolt pulled himself more deeply into the shadows of a gargoyle-strewn overhang and gazed along the dark, deserted alley.

He didn't like this. Not one bit.

But what else could he do?

A wizened old wizard, his face covered in hairy boils, reeled his way around the dark corner, splashing in puddles and singing a bawdy ballad in a voice severely off key. Kingsley shrank more deeply into the darkness and watched as the man staggered drunkenly past, apparently too addled with firewhisky to spy him. A patron of the Pickled Toad, no doubt.

Kingsley shook his head, scattering water droplets out into the damp night air. Folke should have been back by now. He should never have agreed to let him go down to that filthy dive on his own…

The Pickled Toad. Now there was a pub with a reputation that stank like rotten eggs. Hidden in a dark corner of Knockturn Alley, it played host to an interesting cross section of the wizarding world's less savoury characters on a nightly basis. Kingsley knew for a fact that Mundungus Fletcher _acquired_ many of his business purchases there and Dung had described it as a playground for corrupt goblins, for foul-mouthed hags and the occasional vampire, for refugee werewolves who had lost their playground at The Howling and of course, for those witches and wizards who found such a place to be just up their alley.

And tonight, apparently, a Death Eater.

Kingsley shook his head. Normally, he would have believed the Toad to be a step down for a Death Eater – they usually had more class than this. But the tip off had to be looked into, in spite of its strange arrival and the ominous feeling it had imbued within his chest. They were Aurors. That was their job.

And it was a dangerous job at times. Especially these days.

He checked his watch, ducking his head as the rain intensified. What was taking so long? Where was Folke? Why hadn't he reported back? Folke was a by-the-book Auror, never late for a rendezvous if he could help it. It was strange for him to be so long on reconnaissance – but then, this had been a strange business all round.

It had all started a few hours before. Kingsley had just been leaving his cubicle after a long day spent investigating an alleged Peter Pettigrew sighting in Derbyshire when a distinctly bruised and battered owl had tumbled down the emergency owl chute from Ministry's external post office, flapped three beats and then collapsed in a heap on the desk of a shocked looking Jago Folke. A bloodstained note had been wrapped around its leg.

It was difficult to read. Blood and what looked like some kind of potion had smeared across the paper and the hand with which it had been written had shaken so badly that in some places the words were very difficult to make out. But using a magnifying glass, a few careful cleaning spells and a lot of concentration, the two Aurors had managed to translate the message at last.

_The Pickled Toad. Death Eater. Full Moon. He..._

It looked at though the author had tried to write more. But they had not succeeded.

Kingsley did not like consider the reason _why_.

And the full moon was that night.

It might be a trap. They knew that. But he and Folke were Aurors. They'd had no choice but to investigate.

Folke, an expert undercover operative whose face was little known in dark circles, had immediately volunteered to go in. Kingsley, who was rather better known, had agreed to wait at the mouth of the alley in case Folke needed help or had to apparate out in a hurry.

And now here he was. Waiting.

A small witch wrapped in a sodden cloak scurried hurriedly out of the shadows, darting passed Kingsley with a furtive glance his direction before vanishing out into the better-lit expanse of Diagon Alley beyond. A moment later, he was again alone but for the rain.

He checked his watch again. Jago Folke was nearly fifteen minutes overdue.

Abruptly, Kingsley's resolve hardened. That was it. He'd waited enough.

But he had barely managed half a step before all hell broke loose.

Sudden screaming echoed the length of Knockturn Alley, the sound of shattering glass and breaking tables and voices shouting spells. And it was coming from the direction of the Pickled Toad.

And one of the voices was very familiar.

Folke!

But groping for his wand, Kingsley managed only a half a step before the crack of apparation echoed the length of Knockturn Alley.

But the tone was wrong. Painfully wrong.

A second crack ricocheted against his ears, painfully close. Something splattered down against the sodden cobbles just inches from his feet. He heard a strangled cry of frustration.

He looked down. And nearly vomited.

Half of Jago Folke lay twitching and gasping in the onslaught of the rain, scattered, battered and damaged. Both legs were missing as well as half an arm and a good chunk of his torso, several vital organs noticeably absent from their cavities. It was by far the messiest splinch that Kingsley had ever beheld and he had thought he'd seen it all.

Folke was breathing in desperate rasps, his eyes wild as he raked his dismembered body. Appalled, Kingsley took a rapid step forward, dropping to a crouch at his fellow Auror's side.

"Jago," he asked hurriedly and in desperate concern. "What happened? Where's the rest of you?"

But the answer became immediately apparent as Folke began to scream in utter agony.

Kingsley could hear the ruthless burst of spells. Sickness welled within his stomach. Somewhere not too far away, someone – several someones – were systematically destroying the body parts that Folke had left behind.

And with a realisation that hung like a leaden weight across his heart, Kingsley knew it was already too late for him to stop them.

Fingers, _detached _fingers, grasped suddenly around his wrist. Kingsley stared down into Folke's pain filled eyes.

"Imperius!" he gasped.

"What?" Kingsley was instantly at his companion's side. "Jago, what? Who did this? What did you hear?"

"Imperius!" Folke rasped again, his voice strangled with choking pain. "Imperius… Werewolves…_You_…_Know_…_Who_…"

_What?_ Kingsley could see the light fading from his fellow Auror's eyes as he scrambled desperately closer. Jago's head and shoulders lurched suddenly, his face thrusting to within inches of Kingsley's own as he spat out two last words with his final gasp of breath. "Feral…Inst…ti…tute…"

An emphatic shout sounded from the far end of the alley; blood spurted violently from Folke's nose and the corner of his mouth as he drew a final, ragged breath. His fingers, still gripping Kingsley's arm, convulsed abruptly, his scattered body parts vibrating in the throes of terminal wounding. His eyes went wide with horror.

And then the fingers dropped with a splash onto the wet cobbles as the light faded from behind his gaze. A moment later, only the splash of pattering water moved against the soaking ground.

Kingsley drew a ragged breath. _Jago._ Dear God, Jago, what a_ way _to…

A jumble of harsh voices drew his attention sharply back to his situation. They were drawing rapidly closer.

"…heard the crack echo," a voice remarked with cold detachment. "The rest of him can't be far away…"

Anger welled within Kingsley's chest. However oddly it had arrived before them, this mission had seemed like no more than a simple reconnaissance. But now Jago Folke, a good Auror, a good man, was dead. And the owner of these voices had killed him.

He wanted to stay. He wanted to gather his poor colleague's remains and see them safely back to his family. He wanted to confront Jago's killers face to face and bring before justice. That was his duty. That was his job.

He was an _Auror._

But he couldn't.

The echoes of the alley told him that he was outnumbered six to one. And, whatever else he was, Kingsley was no fool.

The Ministry needed to know about this. And the Order needed to know even more.

He had to leave. It was _necessary_.

The rain was falling harder now. Folke's eyes gazed sightlessly into the cloud-strewn night.

Curse necessary.

The footsteps were almost upon him. Grimacing, Kingsley pulled himself to his feet, Folke's last words replaying in his mind. _Imperius. Werewolves. You-Know-Who_. And the _Feral Institute_. Behind the curtain of cloud, he knew the full moon gleamed and werewolves across the country lay trapped beneath its thrall. But was it just the moon alone with such plans?

_Definitely_ needed to speak to Dumbledore.

With a final nod, Kingsley acknowledged his fallen comrade. And then with an echoing crack, he was left the dark alley and its secrets behind him.

**Two Weeks Later**

The moors were cold that day.

Clouds churned above in ragged clumps, wispy and grey, allowing only occasional glimpses of the sharp blue sky they concealed. Patches of pale sun and low shadow washed, jigsaw like, across the dark heather and first hints of spring bracken, bringing brief warmth and then chill cold in quick succession. But it was not nature that drew the eye here on this bleakest of spots but the enormous concrete cube that rose out of the earth like a vast, truncated pillar, brooding, windowless and dark as it surveyed the landscape around it with haughty disregard. It loomed, almost seeming to glare down upon the two insignificant figures that stood, staring, at its base.

With a sigh, Remus Lupin pulled his cloak more tightly around his shoulders as he gazed up at the monstrous grey walls and slowly shook his head.

"I must be insane."

From his right, there came a snort. "Don't expect me to disagree."

Remus shot his companion a carefully measured dark look that she, with equally careful measure, ignored. The wealth of wild white blonde curls that crowned her round, chubby face bobbed and bounced in the gusting wind, her green-rimmed glasses pushed down on her nose as she ran a rather more familiar pair of dark eyes over the towering building before them. The clipboard she was holding twitched, the only sign that betrayed her certain nervousness.

"Merlin, that thing's ugly," she exclaimed abruptly. "It couldn't have been more ugly if they'd tried."

Remus smiled humourlessly. "They did try. An ugly building to do an ugly job. Besides, an architects dream of columns or spires would have drawn far more interest and attention from the Muggles."

With a roll of her eyes, Nymphadora Tonks pushed the glasses of her disguise back up her nose and shook her curly head with a ripple of ringlets. "How do they not notice _this_?"

Remus shrugged wearily. "They do notice. They just don't dare come near. They believe it's an installation for the Muggle military and if they come too close, they'll be arrested."

Tonks crinkled her nose. "Lucky them. I think I'd rather be arrested than go in there."

Remus, who was already feeling a great deal more apprehensive and uncomfortable than he would ever willingly admit, stared up at the patchwork sky and took a deep breath before responding. "At least you stand a good chance of coming _out_."

He felt a soft touch against his arm. "Remus, it'll be fine. That's why I'm here, remember? I'm your research assistant-cum-secret bodyguard, here to watch your back and ensure that a significant member of the Order of the Phoenix doesn't end up drugged in a cage being poked and prodded by wild-eyed mad scientists for all eternity here in the outer reaches of humanity." She grinned cheerfully. "You should be grateful."

Remus gave her a sardonic glare. "Thanks."

Tonks smiled brightly. "Don't mention it."

Remus rolled his eyes. Although he appreciated the sentiment behind her attempts to jolly him out of his nervousness, it was much akin to trying to batter down the doors of Hogwarts with an ant. Nothing in the world would ever make him ready to enter this place willingly.

"I don't want to be here." The words slipped out softly, almost unconsciously.

"I know."

"I have better things to do with my Sundays. I should be having dinner with my father today, not standing on some godforsaken moor waiting to find the courage to enter a godforsaken building that I always swore that I'd never see the inside of, to visit the one person I really never wanted to see again." The thin scroll he held between his fingers crumpled delicately as his grip tightened. "I've had this pass for three months now. There's a reason I've never used it. I don't know why I agreed to this."

Tonks' smile was sympathetic in the face of his uncharacteristic agitation. "I know, mate."

He shook his head, barely listening, his eyes tracing over the dark walls as though to pierce the concrete and catch a glimpse of the source of his dread beyond. "What am I doing here?"

"What you always do." There was an uncharacteristic seriousness to Tonks' tone. "You're doing what's _necessary_. We have to know what Folke was talking about, Remus; if You-Know-Who really is making some kind of move here, you know better than anyone that it could be disastrous. But this place is tighter than a drum – even Dumbledore would have trouble getting an appointment. The Ministry barely bothered – they didn't take Kingsley's report seriously which is why _we _have to get in. And you…" She sighed. "Uncomfortable as it is, Remus, it _had_ to be you. Because ever since what happened when Kane was Kissed…" She gestured to the scroll clutched now tighter in his fingers. "You've had an open invitation."

Remus shook his head once more, attempting to dispel the flood of memories that were surging in his brain, the events of the previous autumn that had nearly cost both his life and many others and the apprehensive look on the face of Alastor Moody that December Sunday as he had stood in front of the cottage at Winter Hollow and watched as Remus and his father emerged from the snowy woods to stare at him in bewildered confusion. _That_ had been a strange conversation…

And then the invitation had arrived to come and see for himself…

Three months later, here he was.

"Why do they think I'd know more than anyone else?" The words were addressed more to the indifferent air than in the direction of the disguised Auror at his side. "I've met him all of five times and four of those times, he almost _killed _me."

Tonks smiled dryly. "For a feral? That's probably the definition of _close_."

Remus, whose scroll-clasping fingers had been unconsciously tracing the unseen line of a crescent along his side, sighed and did not answer. With his free hand, he adjusted the high collar of his robes to conceal the still vivid red lines that scarred his throat.

Even before he had learned that Abraham Kane was to pass the rest of what remained of his life within these dark and brooding walls, this place had always the stuff of his nightmares. He still remembered vividly the cruel gleam in the eyes of the plump secretary that had fronted the Werewolf Registry during his childhood as she had leaned over the desk one day out of earshot of his parents and whispered in his six-year-old ear that if he didn't behave himself absolutely, he'd be dragged inside the very stone walls that now stood before him and never be seen again. He had told his mother what the secretary had said and Diana Lupin had promptly hauled the woman out into the corridor and harangued her for twenty minutes about her utter lack of compassion. But even at so young an age, it had not escaped Remus' notice that at no point had his mother said that the woman's words weren't true.

Lose control for an instant, turn feral for half a moment's breath and it was Azkaban or _here_.

The Feral Institute. The place no werewolf ever wanted to enter. The place no werewolf was ever likely to leave.

And Remus Lupin, whose _two _traumatic feral incidents and two further near misses had thus far escaped detection, was about to willingly step inside on the pretext of assisting their research into the mental state of the feral who made him a werewolf in the first place. And all because a dying man's last words had whispered of this place and Voldemort.

"I must be insane," he repeated softly.

Tonks grimaced as she nudged his elbow, her eyes darting forwards as a crack abruptly opened in the hunkering face of the wall to reveal a grim faced man who eyed them with cool suspicion.

"Join the club," she whispered softly.

"Professor Lupin, I presume." The tall man's rumbling baritone carried across the patchwork heather sternly. His eyes raked down Remus' windblown robes before switching to Tonks' unruly blonde mop. "And you said you were bringing an assistant."

Tonks smiled with deliberately mindless cheer. The man did not smile back.

"Professor Goldstein is expecting you," he simply said. "Come inside."

Tonks looked at Remus. Remus looked at Tonks.

And then, side by side, they covered the final few steps across the heather and stepped into the shadow of the newly formed arch. A moment later, the arch contracted and the Feral Institute swallowed them whole.

**A/N**: Reviews make me happy. :)


	2. The Feral Institute

_**2: The Feral Institute**_

It was safe to say that the interior of the Feral Institute was no friendlier than its façade. Grim, grey, windowless walls rose around them, uniform and unremarkable, broken only occasionally by heavy black doors marked with symbols or numbers or long, identical corridors that stretched away into the building. Even the lights, round crystal balls that shone with an illuminating white glow, seemed dull somehow, subdued and shadowy, as though light itself was an unwelcome presence.

In the distance, Remus was sure he could hear voices. But they saw no one as they walked.

The grim man continued his relentless stride a few paces ahead. He was, at close quarters, quite impressively tall, with brown hair that thinned drastically across his crown, a strong prominent nose and a heavy jaw set firmly. His robes were grey and white in colour, marked with a badge that showed a wolf's – a _werewolf's_ – footprint against a white circle that Remus assumed was supposed to represent the full moon. His wand, tucked in a leather holster, was prominently displayed.

To Remus' right, Tonks caught his eye and mouth the word _security_. Remus nodded in return. This man was no researcher.

Ahead, the corridor that they had followed straight and true came to an abrupt end at a large pair of black double doors marked prominently with the same symbol emblazoned on the security guard's chest. Another man dressed in the same red and grey uniform was sat at a desk in an alcove just beside it, tapping his wand against the wood with a distinctly expression of boredom.

"Falconer."

The man jumped violently as their stern guide addressed him from beneath frowning brows, jamming his wand back into its holster as he dusted his robes off and stood to a sort of attention.

"Yes, sir?"

The first man turned his steely gaze upon Remus and Tonks. There was nothing precisely hostile in his eyes, no dislike on grounds of prejudice as Remus had briefly suspected, but a simple but firm distrust of everyone and everything. This was a man who expected you to do wrong whether he knew it was likely or not.

"Falconer, sign this lady and gentleman in," he rumbled in his deep emotionless baritone. "And then wait here with them. Someone will be coming down from Level Five to escort them shortly."

Falconer nodded crisply. "Yes sir."

Their escort inclined his head briefly in Remus' direction, a gesture that Remus politely returned, and then turned to the double doors. Stiffly, he pulled his wand from its holster and tapped it sharply three times against the left toe of the werewolf's paw.

"Alexander Aylward," he stated precisely. "Security Clearance Alpha."

With a shrill whistle, the circle rotated sideways by ninety degrees. The door released with a loud click. A moment later, Aylward had stepped inside and was gone. The lock sealed itself sharply behind him.

Behind his desk, the security guard called Falconer smiled wanly at Tonks as he deposited a large, leather bound tome on the wooden surface. A quill, attached to a small inkpot by a silver chain, was already sunk into the grain.

"If I could have your pass?" he said, smiling at Remus with distinctly uncertain cheer.

Smoothing the now slightly crumpled scroll of parchment still grasped between his fingers, Remus handed it across the desk to the young man who accepted it with a nod as he scanned the curly writing with a frown.

"That seems to be in order… Professor," he said, handing the pass back as he lifted the quill and scribbled something down in his leather bound book. "If I could just have your assistant's name?"

Name. Ah.

Remus was aware that Tonks had a tendency to name her various disguises - tweedy old Dolly, Betty the bland and unremarkable, Buffy the blonde bombshell to name but three – as it was considered prudent both by herself and her employers that she not necessarily advertise her identity as a rather distinctively named Auror whilst alternately faced. Indeed, Remus had sat through most of her repertoire that morning as she selected a suitably harmless looking persona to adopt, but in the rush to apparate in time to catch the right train into the Institute's anti-apparation zone, the look she had chosen had not been christened.

Use of Nymphadora Tonks was certainly out of the question. But, quite typical of the usual fluctuations of his brain, it suddenly seemed to be the only name that he could think of.

Tonks was glaring at him, her eyebrows working in a universally understandable declaration that he should hurry and just make one up. And at his hesitation, Falconer was looking slightly puzzled.

"Sir?"

"Undine." The name tripped off Remus' lips before he could stop himself. "Undine Blackwood." He smiled in a faux sheepish manner. "I'm terrible at remembering people's surnames."

Falconer's replying smile was more genuine. "You know, my little brother always said one of things he liked about you when you taught him was that you used his first name. He thought it was more friendly."

Remus made himself chuckle. "It was meant to be friendly. But there was an element of bad memory too."

Falconer laughed too, as he looked down to scribble in his book once more. "I won't tell if you don't."

At his side, Tonks was mouthing _Undine Blackwood?_ with a distinctly incredulous expression. He ignored her pointedly.

"All right." Falconer slid the book carefully across the table, the quill extended before him. "If you could both sign against your names?"

Tonks accepted the quill from Falconer's outstretched hand. With a subtle but noticeably dirty glance at Remus, she wrote the name Undine Blackwood in pointedly large letters before shoving the quill into his hands.

Remus signed his name neatly. Falconer smiled again.

"If you'll just wait a moment, I'll issue your day passes. Welcome to the Feral Institute."

The moment Falconer had turned his back, Remus felt sharp fingers digging into his arm as he was yanked several feet out of the security guard's earshot. The disguised but nonetheless irate features of Nymphadora Tonks thrust themselves into his view.

"Undine?" She hissed acidly. "_Undine?_ I have to hand it to you, Remus. I didn't think it was possible to find a first name worse than mine but somehow, _you've managed it_."

Remus had the grace to flush. "It means water nymph. I had your name stuck in my head and that was the first thing I thought of."

Tonks shook her head, blonde curls bobbing with cheerful disregard of their owner's mood. "If that is the first name you thought of, I think you need to trade in your brain. _Undine_, Remus. _Honestly_."

"Here you go then."

Tonks' face broke at once into a chirpy smile as she stepped past her companion and took the two badges marked with the Institute symbol from Falconer's hands. He smiled back.

"Your escort is on her way down," he said, his eyes darting between Remus and Tonks. "But go easy with her. She's a little…_shy_…"

Behind them, the door gave a distinctive clunk. Remus turned and found a pair of blue eyes peered out from behind the heavy wood.

Remus smiled slightly. The eyes didn't move.

"Ummm… hello?" he ventured.

The eyes jumped violently. Paper cascaded across the floor.

"Oh _bother_!" With a high pitched exclamation, a small figure darted out from behind the doors, rushing from side to side as she gathered the fallen papers hurriedly in her hands. She was a short, mousy woman, chubby but not fat, with a broad, plain face clumsily daubed in badly applied make-up and wide blue eyes magnified behind large, gold-rimmed spectacles. Her hair, lankly curled, was a vivid, almost alarming shade of ginger, although a smudge of brown around her roots implied that the colour was not natural.

Exchanging a look, Remus and Tonks moved hurriedly to the unfortunate woman's aid, gathering the scatter of paperwork quickly from the tiled floor. The woman's eyes flashed towards them instantly, quick and furtive, her movements twitchy and nervous – indeed, when in the course of gathering the last few sheets, Remus accidentally brushed his hand against hers, she jumped a good foot in the air and darted back as though she expected him to explode at any moment.

And this woman was working in a building full of potentially feral werewolves?

Eyebrow raised, Tonks carefully extended the sheets she had gathered in the woman's direction. Breathing slightly too rapidly, the woman reached out and cautiously accepted them.

"H...Hello there," she stammered. "M...M…Mr... sorry, _Professor_ Lupin, isn't it?"

Remus nodded carefully. "That's right."

Abruptly the woman's expression blossomed into a smile. "C… Cymone Wrigley," she introduced herself with a quick little nod. "I'm Dr Goldstein's personal assistant."

"Nice to meet you," Tonks stepped forward. "I'm Undine Blackwood, Professor Lupin's assistant."

At the sound of her voice, Cymone jumped again but this time she composed herself rather more quickly. "N... Nice to meet you too," she replied. "If you'd like to follow me?"

Exchanging a look, Remus and Tonks fixed their badges quickly in place and fell into step behind Cymone as she hurried back behind the safety of the large black door. The shiver of a protective ward sent a vibration down the length of Remus' spine as they crossed the threshold, but the badge on his robes pushed back the barrier and allowed him to pass through unhindered.

The room beyond was small and dark, a bleak, windowless little foyer dwarfed by the doors that accessed it. Remus' eyes fell at once upon the opposite wall, into which three dark grey grills of woven latticed metal had been sunk. From the grill in the centre a dark staircase vanished upwards, unlit and grim with shadows; behind the grills on either side gaped empty holes, square and blank, the foot of a shaft that burrowed upwards like a chimney into nothingness.

The door clanged shut behind them. Lights flared.

As the growing light from the ignited bulbs tickled the three grilled archways, black painted words came into focus above their mantles. To the left, Remus found the words "Resident Levels", to the centre "Emergency Access" and to the right, the direction in which they were led by Cymone were the words "Staff Levels". In place of locks, Remus could now see each grill was sealed shut by the increasingly familiar symbol of the Institute.

"D… Don't touch the grill in the centre." Cymone's was a breathy gasp, hurriedly expelled. "It's sealed with a stunning spell that'll knock you unconscious for hours."

Tonks frowned as they followed Cymone to the empty right hand shaft. "How come?"

Cymone's eyebrow twitched. "It… it's the only access to all floors at once," she said nervously, fumbling with her wand. "Or... all floors but Level Six." She smiled fleetingly. "T... that shaft only goes to the levels where the potential ferals live. And this one only goes to the staff levels. It's all s...separate for security reasons. C…can't risk too many escape routes!"

Remus frowned at her choice of words. Cymone's expression dropped instantly – turning hurriedly away, she tapped her wand against the symbol three times in quick succession.

"Cymone Wrigley," she exclaimed. "Security Clearance Gamma."

The empty shaft shimmered and vibrated and all at once the metal cradle of an old fashioned lift melted into view before their eyes. The grill released with a click – Cymone slid it carefully aside and beckoned them quickly inside.

"A disillusioned lift," Tonks was glancing around with a hint of respect. "Nice trick."

In spite of containing only three occupants, the lift was very cramped. Cymone pulled the grill closed in an awkward flurry of elbows, leaning close to the elegant speaking horn with rapid breaths. "Level Five," she said with careful clarity. "Reception."

With an unwieldy clunk, the lift jerked into motion – Remus grabbed Tonks' elbow as she staggered back a half step and grasped his robes as her balance faltered. But the remainder of the ride was far smoother, the lift sliding up the narrow shaft with a swiftness that defied its apparent age before slipping to a tidy halt in front of a silver grill that appeared almost quietly behind them. With an odd sucking sound, the lift rotated neatly around to face this new entrance.

Luckily Remus was again on hand to prevent his companion from taking an ungainly spill. She flashed him a grateful smile as he eased her gently back to her feet and stepped out after Cymone.

The room beyond was marginally friendlier than the rest of the Institute thus far, a small room with the now familiar grey walls but lined with soft chairs and settees around its edge, grey cabinets containing books and old magazines and what looked like a decanter of firewhisky and a picture – Remus' lip twisted slightly – of an ordinary wolf howling before the full moon. Someone had at least made an effort to bring a little colour here – there was a bright Moroccan rug covering part of the grey carpet and scarlet and blue cushions lay scattered over the chairs – but it seemed like a slightly futile effort against the weight of the building around them.

Ahead, the wall retreated slightly into a small alcove in which sat a messy little desk covered in files and papers and a battered old quill pot. A shelf ran along the wall behind, lined with little mouse and rabbit shaped knick-knacks and pictures of pudgy parents – clearly this desk belonged to Cymone, a fact confirmed a moment later as she bustled over to it and deposited her papers in a heap on the desk. Her eyes flitted to beside the desk, where a dark door marked with a silver nameplate was firmly closed. Glancing over her shoulder, she waved an awkward hand that Remus took to mean that they were to stay where they were, knocked at the door and then abruptly vanished inside.

Tonks was immediately at his side, blonde curls bobbing as she dropped her voice to a low and urgent whisper. "Right. You concentrate on sounding out Goldstein, try and find out what kind of things they're up to here at the moment that You-Know-Who might take an interest in. I'll keep my eyes on anyone else who's about, see if I can spot any candidates for a certain _tattoo_." She glanced quickly around, her eyes running over the closed black door. "I'd love to sneak off, maybe have a scout around with a different face, but I don't think us splitting up is a good idea. I don't like this place."

"Me neither," Remus replied with feeling. "That sounds like a good plan. We just have to…"

"But it's _so _interesting!" Tonks' sudden gush caught Remus by surprise as he found the clipboard thrust abruptly into his face. "And I was reading all about it, Professor, and I think it's a fascinating theory, don't you?"

A throat was carefully cleared to their left.

Tonks looked up and beamed brightly. "Oh hello! I didn't see you there!"

Following her gaze, Remus turned. Standing in an archway that led away into yet another grey corridor, a tall figure in robes of white and grey gave a slow and oily smile.

In spite of some notable physical differences, the immediate impression of this man was frankly… _Snapeish_. He was tall and rake thin with long straight limbs that seemed to bend only with slow reluctance and a small head that seemed to have been deposited upon his towering body with very little thought to the proportions. His hair was thick, dark and sleek and oiled back, his eyes deep sunk as they gazed from with the shadowed hollows of his eye sockets. His nose was long, straight and pointed, almost seeming to thrust at the watcher like a ballistic weapon and his wide mouthed smile was curled at the edges with distinctly unpleasant intent. Remus was instantly certain that this man was unlikely to become a dear and valued friend.

At his side, Tonks was regarding the newcomer over the top of her glasses with a raised eyebrow. It seemed she had come to much the same conclusion.

"Ah, Professor Lupin." The man's voice dripped with insincere friendliness; his eyes ran over Remus with a vaguely analytical air. "The infamous werewolf teacher. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

Remus managed a smile. "Thank you… Professor Goldstein?"

For some reason, he caught a glimpse of Tonks inexplicably wincing. The man's oily smile spread. "Arcadius Croll, _actually_. Chief medical researcher for the facility." He chuckled, an utterly humourless sound somewhat akin to claws scraping over a blackboard. "You thought I was Goldstein? My, for a teacher, you _really_ haven't done your homework."

Remus regarded the man slowly, fighting to keep his features impassive in spite of the wave of irritation that had flooded him at the man's smarmy mockery. He forced himself to be consoled at least in that Croll wasn't Goldstein and hence he hopefully wouldn't have to spend much time in his company.

"My apologies," he replied carefully. "It is very difficult to find much in the way of information about the Institute. Your records are not openly available to those of us not cleared at the Ministry."

Croll shrugged. "A necessary precaution. It would not do to advertise our work here, as I'm sure you'll agree. But you are here now." His slow smirk was frankly disconcerting. "To be honest, Professor, from all I've heard of you, I rather expected to see you here sooner."

Remus nodded slightly. "The events of Kane's capture were quite traumatic for me, Mr Croll. I did not feel comfortable accepting your invitation until now."

Again came the nasty chuckle – Croll's eyes glinted unpleasantly. "I wasn't talking about the invitation."

Remus stiffened. At his side, he caught a glimpse of Tonks' fingernails digging hard into the back of her clipboard.

Croll's smile widened. Against his sallow skin, his thin lips resembled a melon rind.

"Gentlemen. Now be polite."

Remus started at the unexpected voice. He turned again.

The doorway through which Cymone had slipped moments earlier was now open. And in it, dressed in identical robes to Croll, stood a woman. She was medium in height, taller than Tonks though not by much, her build slender, her hair a reddish brown that glinted with colour in the light of the orbs along the walls. She was perhaps a couple of years Remus' senior although she did not look it, her face still pretty and soft featured, but with brown eyes that were ruthlessly firm. Although not openly unfriendly, there was a distinct lack of welcome in her cross-armed stance.

And there was something else… Remus felt himself frown as he fought for an instant with his treacherous memory, unable to escape a brief sensation that he had encountered this woman before. There was something about her features, something he knew, something he was familiar with. Perhaps being so close in age, he had known her at Hogwarts…

"Rebekah Goldstein." The statement was soft but distinct – Remus forced himself to concentrate on the matter in hand. "Head of this facility. And you are Remus Lupin." Quite pointedly, she made no move towards him and nor did she offer her hand; instead she simply cocked her head almost thoughtfully to one side and ran her eyes across him with casual indifference. "I have to say, Professor, you aren't quite what I expected." She smiled slightly, not friendly but without Croll's deliberate nastiness, just the cool smile of a professional going about business of which she could have done without. "And judging by your little faux pas, I'm not quite what you expected either."

Remus shot a glance at Tonks, who was snickering against her clipboard – he mentally vowed to have words with her about sharing such information as the gender of their contacts in future. "To be honest, Professor, I didn't know what to expect."

Professor Goldstein's nose wrinkled. "Rebekah will do fine. I can't abide being called _Professor_, I'm afraid, and _Goldstein_ is my husband."

Remus smiled more genuinely. "I rather like being called Professor myself. But if you want you can call me…"

"I'm sure you do." The interruption was cool – in spite of the invitation to informality, Rebekah remained distant. "But there is no need for you to return the favour, Professor. Since you like the title so, I shall use it."

Remus considered protesting, but Rebekah's steely gaze convinced him not to try. At his side, Tonks' laughter had vanished as she stared at the woman with narrow eyes.

Rebekah's gaze abruptly shifted. "Your assistant, I presume?"

Tonks plastered on her most vapid smile. "Undine Blackwood, Professor Goldstein. I've been reading your treatise on the feral mind and I must say…"

"Must you?" Rebekah's cocked eyebrow dried Tonks' fake enthusiasm in an instant. The Auror bowed her head as though embarrassed but Remus could see her eyes glittering darkly behind her glasses. Rebekah Goldstein was not making many more friends here than Croll.

Remus glanced between the two faces, Croll's oily smile and Rebekah's chilly rudeness and sighed internally. Clearly, he was not particularly welcomed.

Which rather begged the question of why on earth he had been invited in the first place.

He felt his nerves tingling as he looked again between the two faces, remembered the intricate security precautions that had now effectively sealed him inside. Just why was he here when the Institute's head and her medical chief so obviously wished him far away? Had he truly been invited here to lend his insight into Abraham Kane's unexpected condition? Or, as Croll's nasty statement had implied, was there some motive afoot against him?

Folke's last words had implied something sinister lurked beneath the surface of this place. He could only hope that it would not claim him.

"Well, Professor," Her tone abruptly businesslike, Rebekah Goldstein interrupted his dark thoughts as she stepped briskly forwards, dusting her hands sharply against invisible grime. "I think it is fair to say that we all want to get this over with as quickly as possible. If you'd care to come with me, I will take you to Kane."

Remus nodded, trying to fight off the warring butterflies that had suddenly flocked to life in the region of his stomach. But nonetheless; plots by Voldemort, sealed doors and seeing Abraham Kane again – it wasn't as though he didn't have plenty to be nervous _about_.

And the Rebekah spoke and her words spent his spiralling butterflies into a tailspin.

"Your assistant can wait here." At the expression on his face, she elaborated. "We don't allow access to Level Six to just anyone, I'm afraid, and although you have been cleared by the Ministry, _she_ hasn't. There really is no point in having a top security area that's open to any person who happens to wander by."

Remus mustered a smile. "Of course, I can understand that. But I was really hoping to show Undine…"

"No." Rebekah's sharp syllable cracked like a whip. "She waits here."

Tonks smiled brightly, but the glow of the smile seemed slightly more wan than before. "Never mind, Professor, it can't be helped," she said with heartily false cheer. "I'll just...umm…" She rolled her eyes pointedly around the room. "_Entertain_ myself, I guess."

The butterflies continued to plummet at her obvious indication of an intent to... _explore_. "Well then, do that." Remus fought to smile but his mouth was deathly dry. _If they catch her_… "But do try and stay out of the way." He met her eyes pointedly. "We don't want to upset anyone."

Tonks beamed. "Of course not." Although a smile curled her lips, her eyes were deadly serious. "Good luck, Professor."

He nodded, the dryness spreading like a desert sandstorm as the reality of where he was and what he was about to do crashed down. "Thank you."

"Professor?" Rebekah smiled as she stood in the archway that moments before had held Croll – the older man had vanished without a word at some point during their conversation. "This way."

Remus and Tonks exchanged a final glance. Tonks managed a smile. Remus did not.

And then he was walking, following Rebekah down the grey corridor, his heart pounding ridiculously, his breathing rapid. He was inside the Feral Institute with no way out but by the guidance of others. Voldemort was planning something within these walls – any face he met could be a Death Eater. And now, in spite of his own resolution never again to lay eyes upon him, he was about to once more enter the presence of what remained of the werewolf who had killed his mother and bitten him as a child.

All in all, he'd had better days.

But it was too late to back out now.

Just ahead, Rebekah Goldstein, cool and distant, was tapping her wand against a series of numbers drawn on the paintwork. Abruptly the wall shimmered and dissolved, exposing another silver lift grill. The Institute head stepped briskly inside and indicated he should join her.

Bracing his shoulders tightly, Remus took at deep breath and quietly followed.

**Reviewer Responses**:

Many thanks to **The Thief Kuronue, RebeccaGoose, Thee-Unknown-Factor, KnightMara, mercutio-rane, Padowan Kenobi RC, Analia's Broom, SabGriffin, aurelie1, Howling-Wolf, SourPickle, DiscombobulatedDrummer, LibraryKat, Liv Naravul, Jello **and** felixgirl** for reviewing. I'm glad you're enjoying it. And thanks for the wishes on my health. :)

A few specific remarks:

**KnightMara** - I'm doing my best to relax and feel better, don't worry. I'm going to do my best to maintain once weekly updates if I can though. :)

**aurelie1** – Oh, Kane HAS been Kissed. But it had an… unusual effect. You'll find out more in the next chapter. ;) Folke – well, in my head, he tried to apparate, was hit by a spell, splinched and then the parts he left behind were destroyed by his pursuers. Not a nice way to die, I'm afraid. :( AUness just can't be helped.

**LibraryKat** – There will be plenty of interaction between Remus and Tonks. I genuinely haven't decided yet if I will include a ship in this fic or not though.

**Liv Naravul** – You may print Oblivious if you wish. :)


	3. A Werewolf's Soul

**A/N: **This is what I will call the Imperius equivilent of _The Werewolf Lesson_ - the chapter in which I attempt to get across a lot of exposition in an interesting way. This is also the chapter that reveals an important idea that underlies this fic but at the same time, it is likely to make a few people suck their teeth and go "Hmmmm... I'm not sure that would work." To be honest, I feel the same ;) but it was such a funky idea when it came to me I decided to run with it and combined with a few unused bits and bobs from Oblivious, this fic was born.

_**3: A Werewolf's Soul**_

The lift moved slowly, seeming to cover half the rise of the previous lift in twice the time. Beside Remus, Rebekah Goldstein was an unmoving statue staring intensely at the wall. She did not speak to him.

_Well,_ he thought sardonically to himself. _With such a friendly and welcoming atmosphere, I'm surprised they don't get more visitors._

But he was here to do a job. Sound out Goldstein, Tonks had said. But in order to do so, some _sound_ was probably going to be needed.

"So Profes… Rebekah." His own voice echoed disconcertingly around the lift shaft. "What kind of work do you do here?"

The turn of Rebekah's head was slow and deliberate. To judge by the gaze with she pinned him, an onlooker would probably have believed that he had just asked her opinion on the right and proper way in which to sacrifice a chicken.

"Research." Her tone was dripping with dryness.

Remus sighed inwardly. "Into..?" he prompted.

Rebekah raised a slow eyebrow. "Feral werewolves," she said, slowly and precisely, emphasising each syllable as it passed her lips. "Hence the name of the Institute."

It was like pulling teeth. "I was hoping for something more specific. As I'm sure you can appreciate, this is a subject I have…interest in."

Rebekah regarded him coldly. "I'm sure you do."

The lift ground to a halt. But this time, no simple grill enclosed the shaft. A solid metal lattice was buried portcullis-like into the solid stone. The Institute symbol had been etched into the surface.

Extending her wand, Rebekah tapped the engraving six times in a staccato rhythm. "Rebekah Goldstein," she stated softly. "Security Clearance Alpha. With guest."

With an audible groan, the portcullis pulled itself clear of the rock and sank seamlessly into the mantle above. Smiling in a slightly disconcerting manner, Rebekah stepped out into the predictably grey corridor beyond and sharply turned to face him.

"Well, Professor," she said softly. "Welcome to Level Six, for top security residents."

"Residents?" Remus glanced around as he stepped out into the corridor, taking in the solid metal doors that lined the passageway; all were ajar revealing a barren, windowless cell beyond each entry. "Odd choice of words."

Rebekah smiled coolly. "Werewolves interned within this Institute are not prisoners, Professor." At Remus' raised eyebrow and glance towards the nearest cell, her smile faded grimly. "This level is only used for werewolves that have turned fully feral and present a clear danger to the community at large. Of the forty-four permanent residents here, this level houses only five. The majority of residents, those who have shown the potential to turn feral but not submitted fully, live on levels one to three. Quite comfortably, I might add." Her eyes bored into his. "They are provided with regular meals, a sleeping chamber that contains their own possessions and facilities for entertainment. This is not a prison camp, Professor, and these werewolves are not chained to the walls. They live well – better in many cases, than they did before. They simply are not allowed to _leave_."

Remus narrowed his eyes. "A comfortable prison is still a prison. And there is no evidence that one feral incident can make a werewolf more prone to turning."

Rebekah's expression was frosty, her eyes unreadable. "That, Professor, is what _we_ are here to determine. I have devoted my life to uncovering the ways and means of the werewolf, the way it thinks, the way it acts and reacts, the effect it has upon the bitten because understanding the curse is the only way that I can see that the spread of lycanthropy can ever be _stopped_." Her eyes ran almost clinically across him. "You carry within you a demon, Professor, a demon that destroys the innocent without the slightest thought." Her stare darkened. "A demon I am determined to eradicate from this earth by any means I can."

Remus fought to contain a shiver at the burning of her eyes. "The Wolfsbane potion…"

"…Is a suppressant, nothing more." Rebekah shrugged dismissively. "Your mother's work on the potion was exceptional, but it does not remove the threat. All it takes is one missed dose and we are right back where we started."

Remus struggled briefly against his own painful awareness of the statement's truth. "But to just lock these people away…"

"These _werewolves_ have shown that they present a clear and present danger to innocent lives." Rebekah's tone was steely. "They should consider themselves _lucky_. Before the founding of this Institute, they would have all been sent to Azkaban. The Dementors would not have treated them so kindly."

Remus fought down a shiver at the thought, his own mind unable to escape the thought that by wizarding law he should have been interned within these walls himself when he was no more than three years old. Would they have sent a child to Azkaban?

"We're wasting time," Rebekah's interruption was brusque. "I didn't ask you here to debate the rights and wrongs of what we do here, Professor. I asked you here for an opinion regarding Abraham Kane."

Abruptly, she turned on her heel, marching briskly away along the corridor. Fighting once more with rampant butterflies, Remus hurriedly caught up, falling into step at her side. She did not turn to face him.

"You were not at the Kiss, I believe? Rebekah asked, her tone sharp but businesslike.

Remus shook his head. "I was invited. I chose not to go."

"Pity. You missed an interesting spectacle." They turned a corner, revealing a row of four sealed doors, each watched over by a red and grey robed guard. Rebekah nodded politely to each man as they passed. "As an expert in Defence Against the Dark Arts, I'm sure you're aware of what usually happens when a person is Kissed by a Dementor."

Remus nodded absently, his eyes drawn almost unwillingly towards the four sealed doors. Faintly, beyond the foot thick metal of the nearest, he could hear the faint strains of a drawn out screech. It seemed Rebekah had also heard – she paused briefly in front of the door's guard with a vaguely clinical expression.

"Selkirk, when Dr Croll makes his rounds, tell him that Ulric's dose of sedative needs to be increased again." She raised an eyebrow at the sound of something heavy thumping into the walls. "He seems to have developed immunity to his present dose."

The man nodded. Ignoring Remus' penetrating stare, Rebekah proceeded on down the corridor, picking up the thread of her conversation as though nothing had happened. "As I'm sure you're aware, a person Kissed by a Dementor becomes a shell, soulless, mindless, alive but without character, without a sense of self, an empty body with a void inside. Until Kane's Kiss, it had been widely assumed that the effect on a werewolf would be no different. We were wrong. _Very _wrong."

Ahead, the corridor came to an abrupt end at a large metal door. Standing cross-armed in front of it was Alexander Aylward, the grim security officer who had first escorted Remus inside. He inclined his head slightly in Remus' direction. Remus politely returned the gesture.

"Well?" Rebekah addressed the tall man abruptly but Aylward immediately shook his head.

"He's having a bad day, Professor Goldstein," he said, his deep voice apologetic but firm. "He didn't like his meal and got upset. It won't be safe for you and Professor Lupin to go inside the cell. You'll have to observe him from behind the blind for today."

An expression of deep irritation flashed across Rebekah's features. "Very well," she said, her tone rich with bite. "Open the door, Alexander."

With a nod, Aylward turned, tapping a sequence into the metal with a muttered incantation. Rebekah turned back to Remus.

"Professor, I have asked you here because I have a theory. And as you are the most notable werewolf scholar in the magical community, not to mention possessing a personal connection to the subject in question, I felt you were in a unique position to offer some significant insight."

Remus suppressed the buzz of chilly anticipation as best he could as he nodded. "I'll certainly do my best."

"Good." Behind them, Aylward had released the door locks, pushing the vast door open to reveal a small chamber. It seemed much as the rest of the facility had, grey and bland but for the upper half of the opposite wall, which curved outwards towards them, dark and glassy, ending only in another door, this one narrow but equally sturdy, leading into an unseen room beyond. The only furniture was a couple of plain chairs and a table scattered with papers, measuring instruments, potion vials and what looked like a rather more conservative Quick Quotes Quill, posed and ready for dictation.

Without a word, Rebekah stepped inside. His heart thumping far too fast, Remus followed her. Aylward closed the door behind them with an echoing thud.

The similarity of location to his last encounter with Kane was too much to be ignored. _I don't want to do this, I don't want to be here, I don't want to see him again. Whatever state he's in…_

Rebekah's voice broke into his thoughts. "I have been studying Abraham Kane since he was brought here last December. And his… behaviour following his Kiss has forced me to reach a quite startling conclusion. As far as we are able to ascertain, it appears that werewolves possess something that is very akin to a _soul_."

Remus felt anger flaring within his mind at her patronising words. "Of _course_ we have souls," he exclaimed at once, his voice remaining level only through great effort. "We are born as human as anyone else…"

"Your protest is noted, but you misunderstand." Rebekah cut sharply across the remains of his sentence. "I did not mean to say that a werewolf in his human form is soulless. In fact, it appears you may have _two_."

Remus could only blink at this extraordinary statement. _Was she saying…?_ "You think the _werewolf_ _inside me_ has a soul? A soul apart from mine?"

Rebekah smiled slightly. "Not exactly. It may not be a soul as we consider it, more an _essence_, a sense of drive and character for the wolf that only usually arises beneath the light of the full moon. When questioned, most of the werewolves here have described their werewolf side as some kind of entity separate from them, sharing a body but different in mind, which certainly supports the idea. Two beings trapped together, fighting for control of one body, but how could the wolf fight so well if there were not something more behind it? It has memories after all, recollections it will share with its human host only grudgingly, and enough of a sense of self to occasionally fight for domination at the first sign of weakness. It could be that this something more, this _werewolf essence_ is strong enough that it could be taken as a soul by a Dementor." She cocked an eyebrow at Remus. "And since Kane was feral, since his werewolf essence was the dominant force within his body when he was Kissed, that, it seems, is what the Dementor drank…"

Remus could only stare. His mind was racing. The malevolent presence of the werewolf inside of him was something he had grown accustomed to over the years and he had always known that it possessed a life and a drive all its own; indeed he had experienced its attempts to gain control of the human it coexisted with at far too close a range. But the idea that such an essence, as Rebekah had called it, could be taken as soul-like, that he truly was _sharing_ his body with…

Within his own skin, Remus Lupin began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. And not very alone.

And Kane – if the Dementor had taken his werewolf essence….

"Leaving what?" His own voice sounding strange against his ears. "If the Dementor drank his feral soul, what did it leave behind?"

Rebekah nodded to Aylward – stepping forward, the security guard tapped his wand briskly against the glass. It turned instantly clear.

"This," she said.

And Remus saw Abraham Kane.

"_Not fair!_"

Remus took an instinctive step back as a cracked wooden bowl clattered against the glass, smearing splatters of a gruel-like substance down the now clear surface in unappetising globs. It was not alone – the brown sludge coated the opposite wall in drying clumps and stained the floor in smears skidded by the passage of bare feet. A pile of cushions and a sleeping mat had been tossed in all directions to lie haphazardly in corners and bizarrely, what looked like a red rubber ball was rolling casually across the floor. Remus had seen Kane's violent attacks on his confinement before, but somehow this was different, for nothing was shredded or mangled or maimed, just tossed and kicked and hurled, in a manner not dissimilar to a small child's angry tantrum. This was not a mindless, destructive rampage. It was a petulant one.

And there, in the centre of it all, stood Kane. There was no denying he looked different, his dark, curly hair grown longer and wilder, his toned muscles shrivelled by his confinement, the claws that had tipped his fingers filed down to impotent stumps. And the change was there too in the way he moved as he stumbled across his cell, loose robe flapping as he kicked the bowl again, the unconscious ease the feral gone, the sleekness and grace with which he had moved vanished into a kind of jerky, awkward twitch. Even his voice, low and gravelled and ever smooth had warped into a hoarse and breathless screech.

"Not fair!" he screamed again as the bowl ricocheted off the wall, tumbling into the softness of a battered pillow. "Not fair! Not fair! Not fair!"

And then he was on his knees, beating his fists viciously against the floor as he chanted his mantra over and over, _not fair, not fair_, always _not fair_ in time with the thwack of his hands against the ground. And then, as suddenly as he had started, the violence ended; scrambling on his hands and knees, Remus watched in disbelief as the most feared feral werewolf of his time curled himself abruptly into the nest of pillows and blankets, hands wrapped around his knees as he rocked slowly back and forth in time with a rhythm that no other but he could discern. His lips were moving. Low and constant, the same words slipped out.

"Notfairnotfairnotfairnotfairnotfair…"

His eyes stared blank and unseeing at the glass screen.

His _brown _eyes.

It took a moment for the realisation of what he was seeing to sink in. Although Kane clearly still bore the marks of a feral, his fingertips clawed and his teeth sharp, the cold golden eyes that had haunted Remus for so long were gone. Brown eyes, not remotely sane, but definitely human, stared out at him.

"His eyes…" The words slipped out almost unbidden.

"Interesting, isn't it?" Rebekah's voice was clinical. "The teeth and claws remained unchanged. But when the Kiss was done, his feral eyes were gone. That was my first clue as to what might be going on. They do say that the eyes are a window to the soul – or in his case, what's left of one." She met Remus' shocked gaze coolly. "The Abraham Kane you knew is gone forever, the evil that made him what he was consumed by a Dementor's Kiss. For that we can only be grateful. But when the Dementor had taken its fill, the tattered remains of the human part of Kane were left behind. And Kane was bitten and turned feral as a child." Her smile was twisted. "All that remains of the great and fearsome werewolf is a damaged body and the excessively unbalanced and deeply traumatised mind of a ten year old boy."

Remus broke away from her gaze, staring once more through the glass to where Kane sat, rocking backwards and forwards in time with his muttered litany. But it was not Kane, not really, not if Rebekah was right, for Kane had been the creation of a twisted joining between the human and the wolf and with only the human left…

_Abel._

He was Abel Isaacs, or what was left of him, the crushed remains of the human boy, _his cousin_, who had willingly placed his arm into a werewolf's mouth and begged to be made stronger. And now here he was, more than forty years later, locked in a cell, weak and insane, clinging wild-eyed to what shreds of his mind had not been swallowed first by the feral Kane and then by a Dementor.

All the damage he had done because of one foolish impulse to get back at the world that he felt was treating him so badly. Pity mingled with anger in Remus' heart as his fingers slipped almost unconsciously to his side and the crescent scar of his bite. _Stupid, stupid little boy…_

"He won't respond to us." Once more, Rebekah's voice broke into his musing. "He won't talk except to shout and scream or mutter to himself about how unfair everything is. He won't even answer to his own name." She shook her head. "But I suppose that's no real surprise. His human mind has been crushed beyond all repair by his years as a feral, suppressed by the weight of a wolf's mind for so many years that it cannot be recovered. A team of experts from St Mungo's examined him thoroughly when he was first brought here but there was simply not enough of his humanity left to restore. Half his mind is gone and what is left is utterly damaged. He is irretrievably insane."

Remus watched Kane's mouth work, watched the glint of sharpened teeth. "Is he still a werewolf?" he asked softly. "Now that the essence of his werewolf half is gone, does he still transform?"

He tried not to show his slight shiver of disappointment when Rebekah nodded. For an instant, he had wondered…

"Oh yes, he still changes." Rebekah was gazing through the glass almost thoughtfully. "Every full moon, just as before. The physical infection of his body remains uncured and incurable. But the difference is that there is no wolfish mind to take control. The effect is like Wolfsbane potion but without the need to suppress because there is nothing there to hold back. He becomes a wolf with the mind of an insane ten year old. Which is always fun," she added sardonically.

Remus ignored her remark as he stared again at the pitiful figure rocking in his corner. "Does he remember being Kane?"

Rebekah sighed. "I told you, he won't talk to us. We have no idea if he knows what he was, what he became." She glanced at Remus. "That was part of the reason I wanted you here, Professor. I was hoping to see if there was any recognition; after all, you played a pretty significant part in his life in the latter months before his capture. And the Ministry are understandably keen to know if they are truly rid of the feral that he was." Her expression darkened. "But his little temper tantrum has put pay to that – it will be hours, perhaps even days before he properly calms down. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come back another time."

It took a moment to sink in. "Come back?"

"Yes." It was remarkable the way that Rebekah managed to suck all hints of enthusiasm out of such a simple word. "There were experiments I wanted to run in your presence but of course now there's little point. I'm afraid, Professor, that you seem to have had a wasted journey."

_Come back_. In the shock of seeing the state of Kane, it had rather slipped Remus' mind that he had been supposed to be investigating for potential Death Eater activity. And even so, it was a little difficult to slip questions about a fondness for painful tattoos or a hatred of Muggles into a formal conversation about the mental state of an insane werewolf. But if he came back…

"Very well." Remus nodded. "Then I will be happy to come back another time."

Rebekah looked less than thrilled at his acceptance. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to wonder if she was hiding some Death Eater plot she had no wish for him to lurk about and uncover – but then, a sensible corner of his mind pointed out that if that had been the case, he would never have been invited in the first place. Rebekah Goldstein was rude, cold and clearly did not like him without bothering to know him but that didn't necessarily add up to in the thrall of Voldemort. He would just have to keep his eyes open.

They stayed perhaps a half hour longer, discussing Rebekah's theory regarding Kane's condition as Kane himself continued to rock unchecked in his corner. But then Rebekah turned to Aylward, whose silent presence Remus had quite forgotten and indicated that it was time to leave. A moment later, the security guard had tapped his wand shapely against the glass – darkness swallowed it as the rocking Kane was mercifully concealed from view.

And Remus was not sorry. The image had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

They left immediately, leaving Aylward behind on duty and moving back down the corridor past the guards and the sealed doors to where the empty cells gaped like hungry mouths. Rebekah did not speak and Remus did not try to make her.

It was not until the lift was carrying them slowly back down to Level Five that Remus chose to break the silence.

"When did you want me to come back?" he asked quietly as the lift came to a standstill. "Only it will have to be a weekend…"

For an instant, something odd seemed to flash behind Rebekah's eyes. "Because of your teaching commitments. Of course. Is next Sunday too soon?"

Remus winced internally at the thought of what his father would say about him missing a second Sunday dinner in a row. Those Sundays had become a committed ritual ever since Kane's Kiss and both father and son had come to rely on them. But this was for the Order and by extension, the good of the wizarding world. His father would understand.

He forced a smile. "That will be fine."

"Good." Abruptly, Rebekah tapped out the code and stepped sharply out of the lift. "Reception is that way, Professor. I'm sure you can find your own way. Cymone will be along shortly to escort you out."

And then, without so much as a fake pleasantry, Rebekah Goldstein turned and strode away down the corridor.

Remus watched her go with eyebrow raised.

"Lovely woman," he muttered wryly to himself. "Absolutely charming."

He wanted to get out of here. Out of this grey prison full of lunatic ex-ferals and deeply unpleasant researchers, away from the echoes of his past and what could have been his future. He could only hope that Tonks had finished _entertaining_ herself and was waiting in reception for him. With a weary sigh, he turned and strode quickly down the corridor. Enough was enough. No more shocks, no more sneers. He just wanted to leave.

And so it was that Remus was not best impressed when he walked into reception and found Felisha Hathaway rifling through the papers on Cymone's desk.

Remus froze. Oh for Merlin's sake, he had told her and _told_ her to stop using that disguise! It had been vaguely funny _once_, just _once_, when in order to spring him from Ministry custody, she had adopted the face of the former school mate with whom he had once spent most of the night locked in with in the Prefect's Bathroom, but it had long since become tiresome. Why the hell Sirius had ever seen fit to inform his cousin that Remus had since been unable to spend any time in her presence without blushing was a mystery. He could only assume the former convict had been bored.

But this was _serious_. They were in the middle of the Feral Institute searching for a Death Eater threat, and Tonks chose now to start playing _games_?

He would have to have words. _For goodness sake_…

He strode hurriedly to her side. "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed furiously. "This is hardly the time!"

"Felisha" jumped furiously, spinning to face him, brown eyes wide in a face ringed by long, dark brown ringlets. In spite of the situation, Remus had to admit he was impressed – this mockery of Felisha was far closer to the mark than any of Tonks' previous efforts, the soft features gently edged by a touch of age, the long lashes framing eyes of exactly the right shade of brown. He couldn't help but wonder who she had been talking to in order to get such an accurate description.

But there was no time now. And for some reason, "Felisha" was staring at him as though she hadn't expected to see him there at all.

"Remus?" she croaked.

Remus blinked. Even the voice was…

"Professor Lupin?"

He turned. Standing in the doorway a few feet away, the blonde curled form of Tonks-as-Undine was staring at him over the top of her clipboard with a growing smirk upon her face.

Remus stared at Tonks. He stared at "Felisha". He stared back at Tonks.

But wait. If that was Tonks…

_Oh._

_Good._

_God_.

Felisha Hathaway – the _real _Felisha Hathaway – was staring at him wide eyed, her fingers crumpling around her handful of paper with unconscious shock. A scarlet blush was creeping up her cheeks, a blush that Remus could feel mirrored upon his own features, burning his skin like fire.

He'd missed his dinner with his father. He'd come inside the Feral Institute, the one place in the world he'd never wanted to be. He'd been sneered at by Arcadius Croll. He'd been snubbed by Rebekah Goldstein. And he had been forced once more into the presence of what was left of Abraham Kane.

And now Felisha Hathaway was staring at him like a lunatic because he had just mistaken her for Nymphadora Tonks in disguise.

Oh yes. He'd definitely had better days.

**A/N**: I'm posting two chapters at once because I feel that post HBP, we may all need a little time to absorb what we've read before returning to fic-dom. Therefore part four will be posted a week next Wednesday. :)


	4. Brief Encounters

**A/N: **In regards to Oblivious and HBP – well, what can I say? -takes a bow- I'm just a precognitive genius. :) And a very chuffed and slightly smug precognitive genius at that… I was SO CLOSE… ;)

_**4: Brief Encounters**_

He had to say something. He knew he had to say something. But his mouth felt like the Sahara and his brain, aware that he had just been made a fool of, had decided to flee for cover. Remus dearly wished he could do the same.

He worked his mouth furiously for a moment in an effort to expel some kind of words. In the end, he just about managed it.

"Um. Hello."

Crimson as the Hogwarts Express, Felisha managed a wan smile. "Hello Remus," she replied, with a kind of vague desperation. "It's been a while."

Oh dear Gods, why couldn't he stop blushing? _I am thirty-seven years old!_ He reminded himself sternly. _I am not an embarrassed sixteen year old! This is not the Hogwarts Prefect's Bathroom_. _Be an adult, Lupin!_

But his treacherous mind refused to listen, flashing up image after image from that night in the bathroom and the look on her face when she walked in and saw…

Remus swallowed hard and forced himself to smile.

"It has, hasn't it?" he managed bravely. "And I have to say this is the last place I expected to run into you again."

"Oh, I work here," Felisha leapt immediately onto the opening in the conversation. "I've been here about six months now. I'm a magizoologist."

Remus smiled more genuinely, his mind flashing back to more pleasant recollections of a Ravenclaw prefect who smiled through even the worst of weathers in the classes of Professor Kettleburn. "Well that's no surprise," he said almost cheerfully. "You always were very good at Care of Magical Creatures."

A few feet away, Tonks snorted violently against her clipboard, clearly fighting the giggles. The glare with which Remus pinned only made her struggles worse.

Felisha's blush deepened sharply. "Well, anyway," she said awkwardly. "I have work…" She flourished her now crumpled papers almost frantically. "Nice seeing you again, though."

"You too." Was it wrong to pray so hard for the earth to swallow him up? "And I'm sorry about earlier, I…" He waved one hand in wild circles, shooting a quick but hard look at Tonks. "I thought you were somebody else."

Tonks leapt hurriedly in. "I change my hair a lot," she said with a silly smile. "I charm it different colours, especially when I'm bored or waiting for someone." She giggled. "It annoys the Professor rather. And I think, from the back, he thought you were me…"

Felisha's expression was vaguely relieved. "Ah," she said with a nod. "I see."

Remus smiled again. He couldn't shake the feeling that he probably resembled a manic clown. "Sorry," he said again. "My mistake."

And then, blessed be her name, Cymone appeared from the office behind her desk, glancing between Felisha and Remus with a slightly strange expression on her face.

"Ah… R…ready to go, Professor Lupin?" she asked uncertainly.

Remus nodded emphatically. "Absolutely."

Felisha was nodding too. "I'd hate to keep you. Waiting," she added hurriedly. "Don't want to keep you waiting if you have to go…"

"I do have to go." Remus gestured over his shoulder. "So… Bye then."

"Bye." Felisha repeated with a quick, awkward smile. And then she was gone, rushing into a nearby corridor at a near run and vanishing hurriedly from sight.

Mortification was an interesting sensation, Remus mused, for caught up in its grasp he managed to ignore the smirk of Tonks and the bemused expression of Cymone. Instead, he simply walked quietly over to the nearest wall, closed his eyes, and laid his head against it in silent but profound embarrassment.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You knew. Didn't you?"

The wind whipped across the heather as Remus and Tonks descended briskly down the narrow path that lead into the wooded valley below the moor and to the quiet, lonely little station for the Muggle steam train that would take them safely out of the Institute's extensive anti-apparation zone. Pulling her cloak more firmly around her, Tonks gave Remus a cheeky smile.

"Course I knew," she replied easily. "I read up on the Institute staff before we came, to see if there were any likely suspects. And there was her name, clear as day."

"And you didn't tell me?" Remus was gazing down into the woods below with an intense and deliberate calm. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Tonks grinned wickedly, in a manner much reminiscent of her cousin. "I didn't want to spoil the surprise?"

Remus did not look at her. He did not even turn his head. He simply continued to stare straight ahead and his voice, when it came, was bland and casual.

"Tonks," he said quietly. "I'm going to kill you."

"I appreciate that."

"It will be a slow death."

"That's understandable."

"There will rending of limbs."

"Moody always says I've got more limbs than I can safely deal with."

"Much blood and much pain."

"Goody-good." Tonks clapped her hands together. "It's always fun to have something to look forward to. But can I have a last request before my gruesome death?"

Remus glanced at her sideways. "That depends on the request."

Tonks smiled more genuinely as they dropped down off the edge of the moor and into the trees below. "Can I have a last drink at the Three Broomsticks? That moor was freezing and I'm dying for a butterbeer."

In spite of himself, Remus smiled back. "I suppose since we were split up we do need to debrief before reporting to Dumbledore. All right, you have your stay of execution. But it's _only_ a stay."

Tonks grinned again. "You're a soft executioner. I may yet wheedle my way to freedom."

Remus' glare was mock steel. "After putting me through _that_? _Not likely_."

There were only two other people waiting at the remote station when Remus and Tonks arrived, a pair of Muggle walkers who nodded politely to Remus as he joined them, his robes temporarily transfigured into a scruffy Muggle jacket and jeans. Tonks, who was not a fan of messing with her clothes, lurked disillusioned in the shadows at his shoulder until the Muggle steam train puffed to a halt at the platform. Remus smiled fondly – the old steam train could have been the Hogwarts Express but for the holidaymakers and tourists that roamed its compartments in place of the children. They moved quickly on board and travelled quietly down a barren valley to the pretty station at a nearby village, before slipping off quietly into the station toilets and apparating quickly to Hogsmeade.

The Three Broomsticks was packed, as one would expect on a Sunday afternoon in spring, but Tonks managed to grab a secluded table in a corner by the fire and cast a rapid charm to conceal what they were saying from any eavesdroppers who might have been lurking nearby. And then, nursing a butterbeer each and a plate of Madam Rosmerta's delicious beef stew, they got down to business.

"Weird." Tonks shook her head quietly as Remus finished his recitation of all that had occurred with Kane on Level Six. "Do you really think Professor Goldstein's right? About this werewolf essence thing?"

Remus pursed his lips. "I think she might be. I mean it makes sense in a disturbing kind of way. And much as I dislike the woman, I would be interested to see where this research takes her."

Tonks nodded sympathetically. "And seeing Kane again?"

"Was strange," Remus admitted with gross understatement. "But then again, he wasn't really _Kane_ anymore. The feral that bit me is gone, almost certainly for good, and I can't say any part of me is sorry. But to see the wreckage left behind…" He shook his head. "_Strange_."

"What about Goldstein?" Tonks asked. "Did you get any feeling from her? Any sense that she was hiding something?"

Remus chuckled dryly. "Oh, I think she was hiding plenty. But whether that was because she was a Death Eater or because she just didn't like me, I couldn't possibly say."

Tonks gave a wry smile. "You noticed that chill in the air as well?"

"Oh _yes_." Remus sighed. "She definitely wasn't interested in talking to me about anything but business. I had clearly been tried, judged and found guilty long before I even arrived. Unfortunately, I have no idea what the charges were." He shook his head again. "The annoying thing is I could almost swear I've met that woman somewhere before. There's something familiar about her that I just can't place…"

Tonks looked thoughtful. "Do you want me to see what I can find out?"

Remus nodded absently, his mind still struggling to place his elusive sense of familiarity. "That might be good. Take a look at the others too while you're at it." He focussed himself abruptly. "Now what about you? Did you find anything interesting while you were _entertaining _yourself?"

Tonks made a face. "Nothing earth-shattering. No portraits of You-Know-Who or a thick dossier marked "Evil Death Eater Plans" alas. I checked out a few offices, looked over some files to see what they were up to but it was mostly bog standard werewolf research – questioning the _residents_ about their condition, studies on the behaviour of the ferals you mentioned on Level Six, comparisons of werewolves on Wolfsbane as opposed to those not. Just what you'd expect from a werewolf research facility." She sighed. "I couldn't get into Goldstein's office. I tried but Cymone was there and I had to pretend I was looking for the bathroom. I had a bit of a chat with her – she's a lot calmer when she's not in the same room as a werewolf, you know; apparently she had a bad run in with one a few years ago which is why she's so twitchy around you."

Remus raised an incredulous eyebrow. "And she works in the _Feral Institute_?"

Tonks shrugged. "She told me she wants to help. To stop it happening to anyone else. Anyway, I chatted with her, asked her about her workmates. She doesn't like Croll, but then who would? She said he was nasty to everyone and very secretive about his medical work. Apparently he believes that his colleagues are out to steal his research and take his credit. Oh, and he hates werewolves. Treats them like nothing more than lab rats."

"Hence his reaction to me." Remus sighed. "Oh joy. What else did you learn?"

"Goldstein doesn't like you but she doesn't know why." Tonks shrugged. "But she reckons she needs your opinion for something to do with her research or she'd never have asked you to come. Apparently she's almost human with everyone else."

"Lucky me," Remus drawled sardonically. "To be so favoured."

Tonks grinned. "Aylward, the security chief, is a humourless sod but he's absolutely straight down the line," she continued with a smile. "He'd sooner break his own fingers than the rules and he picks out men who think the same. And then there's Unwin the caretaker, who we didn't meet but apparently is in charge of looking after the werewolves downstairs, who Cymone described as a cantankerous old git, and Zelia the potions mistress, a new age idealist who sings folk songs over her cauldron of Wolfsbane to help the brewing process." She grinned wickedly. "Oh and Felisha is a sweetheart." At a dirty look from Remus, she rapidly moved on. "There are various other support staff and security officers but those are the Institute's major players. So that probably makes them our chief suspects." She frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe we're going about this wrong headed, assuming one of them has to be a Death Eater. Folke did mention the Imperius curse…"

But Remus was already shaking his head. "Imperius can be broken. Someone would have to stay close at hand, maintain the spell and make sure the victim didn't get free long enough to spill the beans. If Voldemort really is making a move of some kind within the Institute then someone there has to be either a Death Eater or a sympathiser. But the big questions have to be – _who _and _why_?"

Tonks shook her head. "Haven't the foggiest. You and Dumbledore are the brains of this operation, not me. I'm too tired and full of butterbeer to think."

Remus smiled in spite of himself. "Succinctly put. And me too. My brain seems to have gone into hiding since my little encounter, for which, I might add, you are still _not_ forgiven. Now come on. We'd better head up to Hogwarts and report what little we've found."

"Sounds like a plan." Concealing her wand beneath her cloak as she rose, Tonks quietly dropped the privacy spell, but her grin implied that she was not thinking about business. "But in spite of the threat against my life, I have to ask; what did happen between you and Felisha Hathaway in that bathroom?"

Remus froze. Slowly, deliberately and with definite threat, he raised his eyes to meet the wickedly grinning Tonks.

"That," he intoned softly, "is information that goes with me to my _grave_. Or possibly to _yours_."

Tonks raised her hands in a placatory fashion. "All right, all right. Now how are we getting in to the school?"

Remus fell in at her side as they moved towards the pub's front door, which had just swung open to admit an awkwardly moving man wrapped in a green cloak. "Well if there's no one in the courtyard, we can nip down the well passage and…"

His voice trailed off. His eyes fixed more distinctly upon the limping figure that had just stepped inside the bar. He stared.

"Dad?"

The cloaked figure started sharply, looking up. Hands wrinkled but still strong wrapped around the head of the cane that offset a crippled leg. Thick silver hair crowned a face that bore a distinct resemblance to Remus. A pair of brown eyes blinked.

It was indeed Reynard Lupin. And he was staring guiltily at his only son like a rabbit caught in a dragon's den.

**A/N**: For anyone who is wondering why I chose to use a steam train rather than an ordinary train to convey Remus and Tonks out of the anti-apparation zone (I know my beta was!) – it was, in truth, a bit of an in-joke. The setting I have turned into the Feral Institute is actually a real place (a military base, not a werewolf centre!) and it so happens that in the next valley along runs a restored steam train that by extraordinary coincidence has been used as a certain Hogwarts Express in a certain set of films. I became aware of this fact when I went on holiday nearby, caught the train for a day out and found it full of small children who had been dressed in robes, carried broomsticks and had lightning scars painted on their foreheads in red marker. ;) So everything described – the route of the train, the lonely wooded station in the little valley and the pretty station that Remus and Tonks disembark at (which happens to be the film's Hogsmeade station!) is completely real. What can I say? I liked the irony. ;)

Many Thanks to **Thee-Unknown-Factor, RMC, mercutio-rane, Jello, a Happy Bibliophile, Liv Naravul, aurelie1, Sky Spade, sylthian, Aylah, Howling-wolf, Analia's Broon, tomato-can, JennyJoy4, Otaku Pitcher, lizlim, Wade Scott** and **felixgirl** for your kind reviews! As always, they are much appreciated. :)

**A few specific Responses:**

**mercutio-rane** – As you can see, Tonks has indeed had the last laugh. ;)

**Liv Naravul** – If I make a character nasty, I always try to have a reason for it. Perhaps it's over optimism on my part, but I like to think that there aren't that many people who are just nasty for the sake of it. :) And, no, I never said Felisha was dead. I said the fic I was going to write about her a long time ago was dead though, which might have led to some confusion:)

**aurelie 1** – Don't worry, Remus has no plans to deliberately get himself Kissed. He's got more sense than that…;)

**RMC** – No, not psychic but feeling extremely pleased with myself…;) I keep imagining a smack-down between Greyback and Kane – "I bit Lupin!" "No, _I_ bit Lupin!" And the fur flies…;)

**Howling-wolf** – I will openly admit that when I reached that part of the Christmas chapter, I had to stop reading to do an "I Was So Close!" Victory Dance on my bedroom floor. It's so close that I am actually considering adapting the Oblivious flashback into a new spinoff fic to make it HBP canon compliant. :)

**tomato-can** – I'll admit, I had been avoiding doing anything non-platonic between Remus and Tonks because much as I loved them together, I was sure it wouldn't be canon. But now that it is… Well, let's just say it's something I have under consideration…:)

**JennyJoy4 **– Kissing a non-feral werewolf would turn them into a feral because it would suck out the dominant human soul and leave only the wolf behind. Only a feral like Kane would lose his wolf and leave what was left of the human. The Dementor takes whatever part of the werewolf is ruling their actions at the moment of the Kiss.

**Otaku Pitcher** – I think the review board ate your contact details. / I don't have a mailing list but I do try to maintain a regular update schedule of once a week on Wednesdays. So unless you hear otherwise, either on my profile or in a chapter note, expect updates every Wednesday evening, British time. :) And since you rarely review, I'm honoured by your compliments. :)

**lizlim** – I thought the name was familiar – glad you found me:) This fic is AU since it was planned out well before HBP came out (although certain backstory elements carried from Oblivious are closer than I ever imagined they would be!) so don't necessarily expect HBP events to be reflected here. :)

**Wade Scott** – Thank you! I have actually written an original fantasy novel which I am in the process of editing with hopes to submit to a publisher. :)

Thanks again to you all and watch out for chapter five next Wednesday:)


	5. Matters of Some Concern

_**5: Matters of Some Concern**_

"Remus?" It took a moment for Reynard to re-gather his composure, though exactly why he was squinting at his son with such shock in the first place was rather a mystery to Remus. "What are you doing here? I thought you had some kind of appointment today."

"I've been." Remus smiled at his father reassuringly, if slightly bemused by his reaction. "I was just having a drink with Tonks before heading back up to the castle."

"Hello, Mr Lupin." Tonks smiled politely at her friend's father who smiled back slightly awkwardly. "Nice to see you again."

"You too." Reynard nodded, quick and brisk, the set of his shoulders radiating tension, his features drawn and anxious. His eyes darted briefly towards the bar and the fireplace beyond before flickering back to his son.

Bemusement faded abruptly; Remus felt an immediate prickle of alarm. He knew Reynard Lupin. And his father wasn't just surprised to see him. He was _nervous_.

He turned to Tonks at once. "Tonks, do you think you could nip outside and check that the courtyard's clear? Better safe than sorry and we can't risk being seen."

The young Auror's eyes narrowed – for an instant, Remus thought she intended to query his request but then she appeared to sense the subtle tension that shrouded the two Lupin men and with a friendly nod and a quick, curious glance at Remus, she bid Reynard farewell and slipped outside.

"So, dad." Remus turned back to his father, who smiled wanly in reply. "You know why I'm here, but what about you? Having a quiet drink?"

Reynard stared awkwardly down at the floorboards. "I'm… meeting someone," he admitted hesitantly. "For a drink."

Remus raised an eyebrow, privately fighting a distinct unease at his father's obvious discomfort. "Anyone I know?"

Something odd flickered behind his father's eyes. "No. No one you know."

The evasion did not go unregistered, hardening the younger Lupin's suspicions that something was badly amiss. And clearly, quiet coaxing would get him nowhere – his father, it seemed, was not going to share anything he didn't have to. The time had come for direct action.

"Dad, what's the matter?" he asked bluntly

Reynard's eyes darted sharply to his face, clearly taken aback by this sudden change of tack. "Matter? Who said anything was the matter?"

With a shake of his head, Remus folded his arms sternly. "Who am I?"

A glint of more familiar mischief appeared in the older man's brown eyes. "Now Remus, if you haven't worked that out in thirty-seven years, there probably isn't much hope for you…"

It took a great deal of will not to smile. Much as he would have liked to submit to the note of lightness that had just been injected into the conversation, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted off the subject by his father's banter.

"I'm your son," he reminded Reynard firmly. "And I know you better than any other person alive. And yet somehow, you seem to think I won't notice that you're twitchier than a grindylow in a hot cauldron?" He frowned as severely as he could manage. "_What's wrong_, dad?"

Reynard stared at him with a mild frown. "Are you channelling your mother?"

At Remus' stern glare, he raised one hand in a placatory manner. "All right, don't give me that look. _Definitely_ Diana's little boy." He shook his head, his expression suddenly weary; Remus felt a twinge of regret as the brief spark of levity faded within his father's eyes. "You aren't going to be put off from this, are you?"

Remus hardened his jaw. "Not when I know something's wrong. I love you, dad, and when you're upset, I want to _help_."

Reynard sighed deeply. "I'm not upset, exactly," he said, his eyes heavy beneath silvery brows. "Just… uncertain. And I know you want to help, and I wish you could but…" His jaw firmed in a mirror of his son's. "Remus, you aren't going to like this but I'm going to say it anyway. Yes, something is the matter, or could be the matter, but I'm not able to turn around quite just yet and tell you _what_. I'm not trying to keep secrets…" He sighed deeply. "Merlin knows I've learned _that_ lesson. But now just isn't the time, son. I made a promise to someone and I have to test the ground before I bring you in on this. Beside, this isn't something I want to talk through standing in a crowded pub with your friend Miss Tonks waiting outside for you to join her. I want to do it at home, at Winter Hollow. And I promise, the next time you come to dinner, I _will_ explain."

Through his confusion and bewilderment, Remus felt a stab of guilt. "Dad, I don't think I can come next weekend…"

Reynard smiled slightly. "That's handy," he interrupted wryly. "Because I'm not sure if I can either. But the Sunday after, Remus, after the full moon; you have my word, then I'll tell you everything."

A welter of emotions welled up inside Remus – confusion, concern, curiosity, anxiety, a tumble of feeling that he wasn't sure could be suppressed for two whole weeks. But underlying it all was the love and respect he held for his father and if that was what he wished, then he had no choice but respect it.

Two weeks. It wasn't that long to wait…

It was no good. He would worry himself to death if he didn't at least ask.

"You're sure you're not in trouble?" The words emerged almost in spite of themselves. "If you need my help, you know…"

Reynard's smile was more genuine. "No trouble, Remus, I promise. If I were in trouble, I would tell you. I'm not. So _don't worry_."

It was Remus' turn to grin wryly. "That's easier said than done."

Reynard laughed outright. "Too true. Now run along, before Miss Tonks thinks you've abandoned her." At Remus' look, he gave a dry frown. "I'm fine, _really_. Now go. I'll see you in a fortnight."

Remus gave a reluctant nod. Clearly, he was not going to get any more reassurances today. "A fortnight then. Bye dad."

His father patted his gently on the arm. "Bye son."

With a final smile, Remus forced himself to swallow his emotions as he walked out of the Three Broomsticks. It was phenomenally difficult.

He glanced back, just once, from the open doorway. Reynard Lupin, settling awkwardly at a table, flashed him a smile both reassuring and grateful.

Biting his lip, Remus made himself step outside before the urge to run back and demand answers overwhelmed him.

He tried not to think about it as he moved quickly down the street towards the alley that lead to the yard behind the pub, but it proved an impossible task. Who could his father possibly be meeting that he felt he could not tell his son about? What could be so secret and so delicate that it could not be shared with his only family? He and Reynard had become closer than they had ever been in the few months since Kane's return had once more disrupted their lives. There was little they did not discuss, little about the other's lives that they did not reveal, or at least so Remus had thought. So what could be so secret that his father felt he had to wait another fortnight before telling him?

He was not in trouble, Reynard had claimed. Somehow that seemed scant consolation.

The yard behind the pub was fortunately deserted but for Tonks, who was leaning nonchalantly against the well when Remus appeared from the street. She scrambled upright, almost tripping over her own robes as he approached.

"Everything okay with your dad?" she asked with soft concern. "He seemed a bit…"

She trailed off pointedly as Remus shook his head. "He said he was fine," the professor said wearily. "But something was wrong. He was tense. Something was bothering him and he wouldn't tell me what even when I asked him. He said not to worry." He snorted wryly. "And that worries me even more"

Tonks chuckled slightly. "Typical Remus. He didn't give you any idea at all?"

Remus shook his head. "Not one. All I know is he's meeting someone and he can't reveal who or why. He said he'd tell me when I see him in a fortnight. But if he can tell me then, why can't he tell me now?"

Tonks frowned. "Do you think he's in trouble?"

He sighed again. "He said he wasn't. I don't think he'd lie to me. Not after all we've been through this year."

There was an odd nervousness underlying Tonks' expression as she regarded him. "Remus," she said uncertainly. "Maybe he has a _date_."

Remus blinked. "Pardon?"

"A date," the Auror repeated with a too-casual shrug. "You know, maybe he's meeting a woman?"

_Dad?_ _With any woman but mum?_ The very notion was absurd and Remus shook his head at once at the suggestion. "I very much doubt it."

"Why?" Tonks waved a hand, apparently aware that she was venturing onto rocky ground. "I mean, no disrespect to your mum, but he's been a widower for quite a few years now. He must get lonely…"

"He's fine." Remus' brow knitted. "He has me and plenty of other friends. And anyway, why would that be such a secret?"

Tonks smiled awkwardly. "Well, sometimes grown up kids can have trouble seeing their parents with anyone but each other…"

"That wouldn't bother me if he was happy." Remus clamped down firmly on the odd kind of inexplicable cold that had whispered in his chest at the very thought of his dad being with anyone, _anyone_ who wasn't his mother. "But that's beside the point. He _wouldn't_ have a date. Dad's always said he still considers himself married and always will. He says mum is always with him and he wouldn't do that to her. He wouldn't, Tonks."

For a moment it seemed that Tonks intended to argue the point, but something flickered in her eyes as she stared at him and with abrupt diplomacy, she dropped the sensitive subject.

"Never mind. It was just a thought," she said diffidently, tapping the well stones with her fingers. "Come on then, let's get this over with. I want to go home and put my feet up at least briefly before going back on duty first thing tomorrow."

Fighting back the now even stronger worry that was gnawing at his chest, Remus stepped forward and climbed over the side of well.

They made quick progress down the iron rungs that lay concealed against the slimy brick of the old well, before ducking into the passageway that appeared abruptly in its wall about halfway down. The passage was windy and uneven and dripping with dampness but it got them back onto the school premises unseen and that was what mattered most. Using his fresh copy of the Marauder's Map, Remus established that the coast was clear – luckily, most of the staff and students were in the Great Hall, enjoying their dinner - before tucking the parchment safely back into his robes and leading Tonks out of the broom cupboard next to the staff room and out in the direction of Dumbledore's office.

Desperate to take his mind off his father's evasiveness and possible socialising, Remus wondered out loud just what they had from their trip to report.

"You know, you're right. We really haven't got that much to tell the Headmaster." Tonks mused as they made their way quickly down the corridor. "Aside from the fact that Rebekah Goldstein doesn't like you – oh, and your ex-girlfriend's on the staff."

Remus battled not to blush at this reminder of another reason this day was turning out so poorly. "We never dated, as you well know. Sirius' bathroom stunt nicely put pay to that."

Tonks chuckled. "If you say so. But we really don't know much more than we did. You-Know-Who might be up to something at the Feral Institute. There may or may not be a Death Eater there who may or may not be making maniacal plans involving werewolves. Really, we might as well just…"

"Ow! _Ron!_"

A few yards ahead, something scuffled awkwardly against the stone floor. Tonks' wand whipped out in an instant but Remus clamped a firm hand around her wrist, staying any possible spells. His eyes fixed upon the empty air just ahead.

"Harry. Ron. Hermione," he intoned firmly. "Are you going to take that cloak off or are you going to make me do it?"

There was a pregnant pause. But then with a triple sigh, a hand appeared in mid air, clasped a handful of invisible cloth and pulled James' old cloak from three rueful heads.

Harry looked vaguely resigned. Ron, however, was staring daggers at an indignant looking Hermione.

"What did you have to go and make that noise for?" he snapped irritably.

Hermione glared back with equal venom. "You trod right on my foot! It _hurt_, Ron!"

Remus cut in before full-scale war could be declared. "What are you three doing here? Why aren't you at dinner?"

Harry brushed his fingers pensively against his fringe. "We had a DA meeting and things needed tidying up," he said diffidently. "We were just on our way to dinner now."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Under the cloak?"

Ron broke off his silent bicker with Hermione in order to chip in. "We thought Filch was about. He'd give us detention for anything."

But Remus' eyes had already fixed upon the familiar ratty piece of parchment clasped in Harry's hand; reaching into his robes, he drew out the crisp, fresh copy he had made at Grimmauld Place just before the start of the school year.

"Mr Filch is currently in the dungeons, well away from here," he stated softly. "As you well know."

Ron blushed beneath his freckles. Hermione stared at her shoes. Only Harry met his eyes, green gaze unrepentant and vaguely challenging.

Remus did not flinch, in spite of a strong desire to. "The truth please," he simply said.

Harry sighed. "All right. We were checking the map to see if the coast was clear and we saw you and Tonks coming in down one of the secret passages. We thought something might be wrong…"

"And so you waited for us under an invisibility cloak." Tonks looked surprisingly severe as she sheathed her wand. "Why didn't you just say hello? Honestly Harry, I could have cursed all of you."

"Okay, it was stupid." Harry admitted with a shrug. "But if something was wrong, I just wanted to know what it was…"

Remus felt a powerful twinge of guilt beneath the gaze of those intense emerald eyes; he knew all too well what the price of concealing too much information from Harry could be. But unlike the secret of the Department of Mysteries that had cost Sirius so dearly, there really was nothing about his current Order mission that Harry needed to know. There was barely anything _to_ know.

He took a deep breath. "It's nothing you need to worry about. We're just debriefing Dumbledore after a mission."

Harry frowned sharply. "You mentioned Voldemort and Death Eaters. I heard you. What's he doing now? And what's the Feral Institute?"

"Nothing that concerns you." The words came out far more calmly than Remus had expected, given the onslaught of emerald before him. "Honestly Harry, you have enough to think about without needing to know every detail of a fairly mundane Order mission. Now you should hurry up and get to dinner, there won't be much left otherwise."

Harry frowned more deeply, his expression of hurt and resentment cutting a painful strip into his teacher. "But…"

"Harry, really, it's just an investigation," Tonks cut in neatly with a reassuring smile. "Remus and I are looking in to the truth of some information we received, that's all. There may not even be anything to find."

"You mentioned Rebekah Goldstein." Hermione's voice broke suddenly into the conversation. "She's the leading authority on feral werewolves – I know, I read her book." She took a deep breath as she squared up to Remus' eyes. "Does this have something to do with Kane?"

Remus forced himself to relax his shoulders. "That isn't something I want to discuss. Now please go to dinner."

Ron's eyes had widened at the mention of Kane. "Is he out again? Kane? Is he coming here?"

"Kane is locked away. You're in no danger from him." Remus was rather proud that he managed to hold his outward composure with barely a flicker of expression. "Now dinner. Please." He fixed them with his most teacherly look. "I'm not going to ask again."

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged a flurry of glances. But the look on their professor's face appeared to have convinced them that this was a battle that they were not going to win.

Their spat forgotten, Ron and Hermione shared a look of concern as they both glanced at their friend. For his part, Harry was apparently preoccupied with folding the invisibility cloak and stuffing it inside his robes. "Yes, Professor Lupin," he said dully, his expression cloudy with hints of thunder. "See you in class then."

More secrets. More half heard whispers and things that could not be revealed. Remus felt an unpleasant flicker as it occurred to him that he was behaving exactly as his father had not long before.

His hand caught Harry's shoulder as the teenager moved to brush past him. Emerald eyes rose to meet his.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "But there's really nothing to tell."

Harry's expression cleared slightly. He nodded. But there was no mistaking the look in his eyes as he turned with his two friends and walked away down the corridor.

Tonks stared over her shoulder until they were out of sight, shaking her head slightly. "How much do you think they heard?"

"Everything." Remus gazed blankly down the corridor, wishing very strongly for a warm bed and hot chocolate. "Every word we said."

Tonks grimaced. "I didn't like that look on Harry's face. Do you think he's going to poke about? Try and find out about the Institute?"

Remus sighed, another face, identical but for hazel eyes in place of green, playing before his mind's eye. He knew that look far too well.

"I'm certain of it," he said, his mind tumbling resignedly through the catalogue of the day's events. What with Kane, Rebekah, Felisha, his father and now Harry, it made for quite a list. "Which gives me one _more_ thing to worry about."

**A/N**: This section (and also chapters 6 and 8 although 7 came afterwards - long story...;)) was written before HBP came out. So mention of the now canon discontinued DA and any other discontinuities or similarities are entirely coincidental. :)

Many Thanks to **mercutio-rane, Wade Scott, aurelie1, Sky Spade, Neeks, Howling-wolf, Hiron Otsuki, Adre, Analia's Broon, sylthian, The Great RC, felixgirl, superpan, Cheesy Monkey, Coat **and** Esined **for your kind reviews:)

A few specific responses:

**mercutio-rane** – Oh, Tonks will be doing her very best to wrangle it out of him, believe me. And Remus will be resisting with every fibre of his being! Oh and – I'm definitely a"she" BTW. :)

**Wade Scott** – Always good to know. :)

**aurelie1 **– Well, I was mostly referring to all of Lupin's background and the fact he was bitten quite deliberately by a psychopathic werewolf who targets children to make them like him and had a grudge against his father: which was pretty much the essence of my plot…;)

**Neeks** – I've always tended towards the big descriptions – it's just part of my style. My beta is with you though! ;) And I must admit to a small sense of deja-vous on reading that part of HBP:)

**Howling-wolf** – I'm afraid my answer in response to all death eater speculation must be the JKR standard – no comment. ;)

**Hiron Otsuki** – Alas, if I were JKR I would have so much more money…;) As to the werewolf-Dementor speculation – that would be the case IF a Dementor were to kiss a transformed werewolf. But the question is – would a Dementor Kiss a transformed werewolf or do they only like human/apparently human souls? ;)

**The Great RC** – I love Rey, bless his heart. I'm immensely proud of him. In fact, I went out of my way to find him a role in this fic. :) And good luck with your story idea:)

**Coat** – It was more like riding the Hogwarts Express than I expected since most of the carriages were full of kids in robes with broomsticks:)

**Esined** – I'm not intending to send Rey to the Institute – he has no wish to ever cross paths with Kane again. And I doubt JKR has ever read Oblivious, though it would be an odd thought if she had…;)

Thank you all very much for your reviews and please review this new chapter too:)


	6. Shaking Hands

**A/N:** I would like to state for the record that all characters in this section were named before reading HBP. Honest! ;)

_**6: Shaking Hands**_

Hideous embarrassment, Remus mused as he forced a smile onto his face, was, fortunately, never quite as utterly appalling the second time around as the first.

From across the Level Five reception room of the Feral Institute, Felisha Hathaway smiled back with the grimly determined air of one who already knew that it was impossible for this time to go as badly as the last.

Remus could only hope she was right.

It seemed less the passing of a week and more an indistinguishable blur of time that flew past with unnecessary haste that had brought Remus once more within the grim grey walls of the Feral Institute. The teaching of his classes was a dim memory, punctuated only by occasionally vivid recollections of Harry Potter's suspicious eyes gazing at him from behind those familiar glasses and one rather notable incident during a duelling lesson involving Vincent Crabbe and a badly aimed combination of _rictusempra _and _tarantallegra_ that he doubted he could erase from his memory even with a scrubbing brush. The weekend had struck abruptly, its imminence heralded on Thursday by Severus Snape's bad tempered appearance with his first dose of Wolfsbane potion in advance of the following Wednesday's full moon and then suddenly it was Sunday morning and he was meeting Tonks in Hogsmeade in preparation for their journey to the moors.

They had discussed plans along the way. Since it seemed unlikely that Rebekah Goldstein would be any more welcoming of "Undine" than she had been before, they had decided that divide and conquer was the way to go. Remus would continue his efforts to squeeze blood from the stone that was Rebekah; Tonks would concentrate her efforts on whoever else she happened to encounter. But with a glee that was frankly unbecoming, the Auror had then made a suggestion.

"What about Felisha?" the metamorphmagus had declared as they watched the tourist steam train pull away from the lonely station and turned to start up the hill into the woods.

Remus had fixed her with the dirtiest look he could muster. "What about her?"

"You know her." Tonks' grin had been wicked. "She may be a useful contact for us on the inside of the Institute. We could use that."

Remus had felt his insides give an uncomfortable squirm. "I suppose."

Tonks had gazed airily up into the leafy canopy. "But of course," she had added with humour-filled nonchalance. "That would mean you'd have to actually talk to her…"

He had protested that such a thing would not be a problem. Out there on the moor, it had all seemed so easy.

Staring Felisha in the face, he found it rather less so.

He risked a glance over his shoulder to where Tonks was standing, chatting with Cymone beside the lift shaft. After a stern conversation on the long walk across the dewy heather, he had drawn from the Auror a faithful promise not to stir up trouble regarding his former schoolmate for fear of destroying what tentative communication they could manage. Given the quite inordinate and unreasonable amount of pleasure she seemed to take from his discomfort, he had not been entirely convinced of her sincerity but he had been relieved to note than when they had found Felisha waiting for them in the reception room, Tonks had stepped politely back and allowed him to be humiliated a little more privately.

"Remus." There was a nervous heartiness to Felisha's tone and she stepped determinedly forward towards him. "Do you have a minute? I was hoping we could have a word."

Remus, who had been expecting the same rush of forced pleasantries before a rapid flight from his presence as happened last time, was taken slightly aback.

"Ummm… all right," he managed. "That is… if I'm not needed yet?"

The last was spoken in a slightly raised voice as he turned his head towards Cymone. The little woman jumped at being addressed, her eyes wide beneath her crooked blue eye shadow as she picked nervously at her sloppily painted silver nails. As she always did when faced with Remus, she began to twitch nervously.

"P…Professor Goldstein will be a few minutes yet," she stammered. Tonks, standing beside her, raised a pointed eyebrow as she battled not to smirk.

Remus blessed her with a glare that nearly sent Cymone fleeing for her desk. With a slightly apologetic smile, he turned back to Felisha.

"Looks like I'm all yours then," he said with awkward cheer.

The distinct beginnings of a blush touched the edges of Felisha's cheeks. In spite of her promise, he distinctly heard Tonks snort with laughter.

Felisha braced her shoulders. "This way," she indicated.

Battling against the heat of his own cheeks, Remus turned to follow.

They walked in blessed silence down yet another dull grey corridor, avoiding each other's glances as they both waged an unspoken battle to behave like normal human beings. Fortunately the awkward walk ended quickly – Felisha stopped before a wooden door and pushed it hurriedly ajar.

"My office," she said with a wave of her hand, indicating that he should enter. Nodding politely in response, Remus stepped inside.

The room he entered was quite unlike any other part of the Institute that Remus had seen. For one it was brightly lit and full of colour; there was a rainbow rug covering much of the floor and a Celtic tapestry draped over the chair's back, a framed English landscape in golden summer sunlight glinted on the wall and the desk was a muddle of vividly painted pen pots and patterned notebooks, some laid open to reveal a quite familiar, neatly curled script.

Felisha had apparently followed his gaze. "This building is so _grim_," she said with feeling, in the closest to a natural tone that Remus had heard her use with him for years. "I had to do something or I'd have gone round the bend. Grey, grey and more grey." She laughed suddenly, though her expression was wry. "You know, if I work here long enough, I can just see myself cackling like a lunatic as I run up and down the corridors throwing paint at the walls." She gave a mock-thoughtful frown. "I think Croll would look quite fetching in a creative splatter of gold and puce."

Remus chuckled too at the mental image of Croll's pointed nose dripping with hurled colour. "I think I'd pay good money to see someone throw paint at Arcadius Croll."

The warm smile on Felisha's face took Remus back by twenty years. "So speaks a man who has clearly met our charming Chief of Medicine. Trust me, you'd need to join the_ queue_."

Again they shared their laughter and the years seemed to drop away into the corridors of Hogwarts castle as he shared patrol and a shy joke with a pretty, curly haired prefect from Ravenclaw. He remembered the tentative beginnings of a nervous friendship with a girl he'd admired for a while but somehow never found the nerve to speak to, quiet study sessions in the library, usually suggested by a Lily who would inevitably remember some urgent appointment that needed her immediate attention and depart hurriedly with a grin. And he remembered the way all those fragile bridges had come crashing down on the day that Sirius Black had ushered her into the Prefect's bathroom just as he had been pulling himself from the water…

His laughter abruptly died as the wash of briefly-forgotten awkwardness flooded back across his senses. The look on her face…

Felisha's laughter dried away in tandem with his creeping blush. She sighed deeply.

"Remus, this is _silly_," she exclaimed, the steel in her voice parrying her own embarrassment ruthlessly. "For two intelligent, reasonable adults in their thirties to continually let some foolish teenage prank ruin every conversation they have – we can't let this go on. We let our friendship at school dwindle away because of that stupid night and now look at us! We used to be _friends_, Remus, and now we can barely manage to string together a civilised conversation!" She took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you now because I wanted to ask that we put this whole business behind us. I want us to make a fresh start. A start without all this damnable _blushing_." Firmly, she thrust one hand out towards him, palm extended. "Hello," she said with measured cheer. "Nice to meet you. I'm Felisha Hathaway."

Remus stared at the hand. He stared at Felisha. And then he reached out, enfolded her fingers in his own and firmly shook her hand.

"Remus Lupin," he said with a slowly dawning smile. "Nice to meet you too."

Felisha gave a rueful chuckle. "Now, wasn't that easy? Not a blush in sight."

Remus joined her. "Oh yes. My cheeks are as pale as ever."

Felisha cocked her head thoughtfully. "I'd suggest covering you in puce and gold but I'm not sure that those are your colours. Though a nice burnt orange and a bit of forest green would offset your eyes very nicely."

Remus shook his head, determined to ward off further blushing. "I'll bear that in mind the next time I want to be splattered with paint."

As her laughter faded, Felisha glanced towards the door. In the quiet lull that followed their moment of levity, Remus could distant voices at the end of the corridor.

"I'd better let you get on." Felisha brushed absently at her dark brown ringlets. "Considering the mood that Rebekah has been in recently, I don't like to think what she'd say if I made you late."

Reality re-imposed itself with a dull thump. "I suppose so."

"But we'll catch up." Felisha's smile was sincere. "We can meet for a drink – I'll owl you about it. You'll be at Hogwarts?"

Remus nodded. "That's right."

"Good." Felisha smiled again. "Do you want me to take you back?"

He shook his head. "I think I can find my own way. But thank you." He smiled, genuinely. "It was nice to have a proper conversation again."

She shared the smile. "Wasn't it just? I'll be in touch, Remus. And I'll be utterly unembarrassed about it."

He glanced back over his shoulder as he turned towards the door. "I look forward to it."

And then he stepped out into the corridor and headed back towards reception with shoulders that felt oddly lighter and cheeks that were remarkably cool, shared laughter ringing in his ears. For the first time in more than twenty years, he'd just held a reasonably normal conversation with Felisha Hathaway. He'd honestly never thought he'd see the day. A part of him half expected to see a flying pig flittering down the dull grey passage ahead of him for after what had just happened, almost anything seemed possible. Perhaps Rebekah Goldstein would greet him warmly and offer to teach him to play the maracas. Perhaps Arcadius Croll would crack a genuine smile.

The loss of Felisha's potential friendship had always been one of his life's great regrets.

But perhaps it wasn't too late to change that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Remus' buoyant mood lasted until he arrived back in reception to find Tonks-as-Undine engaged in a slightly glassy eyed conversation with a pair of strangers. Cymone had disappeared, presumably behind the slightly ajar door of Rebekah's office and Remus had a strong suspicion as to why; although the tall woman in researcher's robes with dark, flyaway hair and a vaguely Trelawney-like air seemed harmless enough, the man at her side wearing plain brown robes and sporting a brown goatee was flexing a rather mangled right hand that bore the unmistakable drag of canine teeth.

"…and I find a few songs of hope and peace do wonders for the brewing process," the woman was saying, her long fingers tracing the outline of a series of Celtic pendants and zodiac symbols hanging on leather thongs around her neck. "Wolfsbane is such a delicate potion but even volatile ingredients can be soothed by the presence of harmony and goodwill. I make sure to cleanse every negative thought before I even touch a cauldron and Dolph here has told me that the love behind my Wolfsbane can be found within the taste…"

Tonks glazed eyes alighted upon Remus with an almost desperate air. "Professor!" she hailed with a heartiness that made woman beside her jump slightly. "Why don't you come and meet Zelia? She's the Institute's Potions Mistress."

The woman smiled in an unnervingly ethereal manner. "I'm Zelia Phelan," she introduced herself breezily. "And you must be Professor Lupin. Your mother developed the Wolfsbane potion, I believe?"

"That's right." Potion brewers, it seemed, came in all shapes and sizes, Remus mused as he accepted Zelia's outstretched hand, oddly aware that she was the first member of staff besides Felisha to willingly touch him. Snape was as bitter and sour as his ingredients, taciturn and unhelpful; his mother had been cheerful and practical in her approach, never disheartened by a failure or over-inflated by success. And now here was Zelia Phelan who sang songs over her potions and cleansed her negative thoughts before brewing. Remus couldn't help but think that if cleansing negative thoughts were necessary to potion making, Snape would never be able to touch a cauldron again.

"A wonderful development," Zelia intoned with a vague smile. "It has made a great difference here at the Institute. Wouldn't you agree, Dolph my dear?"

The man's smile was rich with dry tolerance. "Very much so, Madam Phelan," he replied, his voice soft and deep and tinged with the slightest hint of a Germanic accent. "Many of the residents had never been able to acquire the potion prior to their… _arrival_ here."

Zelia's pale eyes suddenly opened wide. "But where are my manners? Professor Lupin, this is Dolph Greymoor. He was recently appointed as ombudsman to represent the needs of our residents to those of us charged with their care; he is, in fact, the only resident we have here who is permitted on Level Five. Dolph, this is Professor Lupin, a fellow werewolf and a teacher at Hogwarts School."

Dolph's neat eyebrow rose slightly. "Truly? The werewolf teacher? I had heard of you, Professor, but given my…" he cleared his throat slightly, "_...unfortunate_ situation at present, I had never thought to cross your path. An honour indeed. Though I hope you'll forgive me if I don't offer my hand."

He raised his damaged right hand into view with a slightly ironic twist of the lips. Remus fought down a wince as his eyes ran across the vivid red tooth marks torn out of the flesh, the twisted thumb and the half missing middle finger and the continued scrape of scars along the wrist that thankfully vanished from view beneath a sturdy leather wrist guard that he could only suspect was necessary to support the damaged tendons. The wounds did not look more than a year or two old.

"I was bitten early last summer." Dolph answered the unspoken question; it seemed that Remus' curiosity had registered in his eyes. "I was part of a research team in the Black Forest and we had a quite unpleasant encounter one full moon night. I came to England in order to learn about the Wolfsbane potion but there was an…_incident_ during my stay." He shook his head. "I should have been more careful. But I am not a bitter man, Professor. If I truly am as much a danger as I briefly became, then it is better I am here. I would not wish to see anyone else get hurt."

Remus felt a painful stab of guilt. By the law of the land, he too should have been incarcerated here twice over, living side by side with Dolph and the other residents; he too should have been trapped with no more to look forward too in life than the next experiment on the research calendar. It was not a life he wanted, not a life he felt he deserved but it was the life that had been forced upon men and women like Dolph who had probably never come nearly as close to turning feral as he had. He had been lucky; he had a loyal family and influential friends like Dumbledore and Moody who had protected him from such a fate as this. So many others had no such luck. But they no more deserved this place than he did.

He felt a well of helpless fury surge within his chest. This whole building was a travesty. It wasn't _fair_.

"Professor Lupin?"

He looked up. Alexander Aylward, the security guard, was standing impassively in the mouth of the corridor.

"If you'd like to come with me," he said in his rumbling baritone. "Professor Goldstein and Dr Croll are waiting for you on Level Six."

Remus gave a polite nod. "Of course."

"We must also be going." Zelia smiled beatifically. "We must take today's Wolfsbane down to distribute amongst the residents. Dolph?"

The urbane werewolf nodded respectfully in Remus' direction. "Again, professor, a pleasure. And you, Miss Blackwood."

Remus and Tonks both returned the gesture. With a slight smile, Dolph turned and followed Zelia into the lift. A moment later, both had sunk from view.

Remus turned to Tonks. "You'll be all right here, Undine?"

Tonks' smile was slightly pointed. "I'll entertain myself, Professor. Just like I did before."

He longed to tell her to take care but such an admonishment would have sounded strange from a Professor leaving his assistant to sit alone in a grey room. "Have fun then," he said softly instead, placing the true weight of his meaning into his eyes. Her slight smile implied that the message had been received and understood.

"I will," she replied.

With a final smile, Remus turned and made his way over to join the unsmiling Aylward, who fell in at his side without a word. Remus felt himself take a deep breath as he approached the lift to Level Six. On the one hand, at least he knew what to expect. But on the other, it was still Kane.

And Rebekah. And Croll.

In other words, it had all the makings of a _fun_ afternoon.

**A/N**: Many thanks to **Cheesy Monkey, Liv Naravul, aurelie1, Howling-wolf, Aylah, mercutio-rane, Analia's Broon, sylthian, The Great RC, Elizabeth L, Hiro No Tsuki, Firechild: Slytherin5, Bethany **and** Liz L**. All reviews are appreciated muchly. :)

**A few specific responses**:

**Liv Naravul** – You will find out a little more about the mysterious Bathroom Incident. But I do intend to have some respect for Remus' privacy too…;) And do I take it you aren't a great fan of teenage Harry? ;)

**Howling-wolf** – I know, I know. I'm already four chapters over budget and I've only written up to chapter 10! And you will find out why Rey is nervous but not just yet. :)

**mercutio-rane** – I did want to use this fic to show a little of a teacher's perspective on the Trio's snooping. I've always wondered what the opinion of those not Dumbledore or Snape might be about Harry's adventures:)

**Elizabeth L.** – Well remembered:)

**Hiro No Tsuki** – What the Dementor took from Kane was a full wolf – the human half was left behind. But there's no guarantee the Dementor wouldn't suffer some manner of Dementor-esque indigestion from eating a non-human "soul"…;)

**Firechild: Slytherin5** – I haven't yet made a firm decision in regards to the shipping forecast of this fic. I suspect you'll find out when I do! ;) And as for Kane – he really doesn't have enough of a mind left to get together any more, so no, I'm afraid I'm not planning any great redemptive moments for him.

**Bethany **– Theoretically yes, but in practice, would a Dementor ever suck the soul out of a transformed werewolf in the first place? I rather get the impression that human souls are their specific diet. But this issue certainly seems to have got people thinking so I will say this much – I have thought about all this and these issues will be opened and addressed later on. But not just yet. :)

**Liz L**. – Are you the same as Elizabeth L.? I wasn't sure. But either way. :) I can't say the idea of a fan club has ever occurred! I'm not planning one though – my ego is rapacious enough when it is fed positive reviews, so I suspect a fan club would cause it to swell to alarming proportions and go on the kind of rampage that usually ends, to pick an example, in Godzilla swallowing Tokyo. And I'm not sure my neighbours would appreciate it…;)


	7. A Little Entertainment

**A/N:** This is my first attempt to write a chapter from Tonks' POV and I'm really not sure how well I've managed. Since this is kind of a tester for later chapters that I also intend to write from her POV, any feedback on whether this is good/bad/indifferent and any advice on how I could improve her would be much appreciated.

_**7: A Little Entertainment**_

Nymphadora Tonks watched Remus go and felt herself give a weary sigh.

_Poor Remus_.

It would have been a lie to say that she wasn't more than a little worried about him – even the world's thickest prat could see the stress that the weight of this place and fresh encounters with what was left of that utter git Kane was inflicting upon his mind and emotions. He had been through so much already and yet somehow fate managed to just keep his troubles coming. There was no denying it. Fate stank.

Especially considering it had seen fit to shove him into the midst of the – _ahem _- infinite joys of the Feral Institute and its staff, an insane feral and a potential Death Eater plot. It just wasn't fair.

She did her best to help, of course, surrounding him as much as she could with laughter and banter, with silliness and jokes, or just an understanding ear to lighten the load that he carried. It was always so _easy_ to be with him once he did let himself relax, their daft chats and conversations flowing like a bubbling stream, untamed, un-dammed, unstoppable. She had to admit that when she had first encountered the pale, tired-looking werewolf who had smiled wanly at her in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place at her very first Order meeting, she couldn't have imagined he'd end up being one of the best mates she'd ever had.

True, she also teased him with a ruthless lack of mercy on the subject of Felisha, but that was not just for the fun of it; there was something oddly endearing about watching her usually calm and reasonable friend dissolve into a flustered mess at the memory of a teenage embarrassment and it certainly took his mind off other things. Beside, strangely, it was almost reassuring to realise that once upon a time, Remus had been as much a hormonal teenager as the rest of them Somehow, it made him more…_more_…

An appropriate word failed to materialise. But Tonks knew what she meant.

She smiled.

Well anyway, back to business. It was time to entertain herself.

To be honest, she had intended to lurk around in reception being vapid and perky with Cymone until Remus returned from his visit with Rebekah and Kane. The assistant had proved a valuable source of information on their last encounter, one Tonks considered to be worth re-tapping; but before she had the chance to even open her mouth, the little woman, who had until that moment been watching Remus and Aylward depart together with an oddly pensive expressive, suddenly shuffled her ever present handful of papers, muttered something about filing and abruptly vanished in the other direction.

And Tonks found herself suddenly alone.

It was then that she noticed the door to Rebekah's office had been left ever so slightly ajar.

_Hmmm…_

She glanced left. The corridor was empty and silent. She glanced right and saw the same. The lift was still and showed no signs of motion.

Zelia and Dolph had gone downstairs. Rebekah, Croll and Aylward were upstairs with Remus. And now Cymone was filing.

She was not going to get a better chance than this.

She could almost imagine the look on Remus' face when she told him about this. She could certainly imagine the look on his face if she was caught. But this was no time to faff around.

Grasping her clipboard firmly in one hand, Tonks crossed the reception in a few swift steps, turned the handle and stepped hurriedly inside.

The room beyond wasn't as large as she'd expected, a small blocky office utterly lacking in windows, its walls lined with bookshelves, cabinets and boxes piles with files and folders. A broad desk dominated its centre, quill pots inset into the stained wood next to neat wooden trays stacked with documents and a red notebook propped against a square open-topped box filled with a crisp pile of notepaper. Two photo-frames had been precisely placed in one corner; the newer showed a smiling, brown-haired man laughing and waving as he slung his arms over the shoulders of a teenage boy and girl while the older, grainier image showed a family of five, two parents, two girls and a younger boy all smiling from the front lawn of a decent sized stone house set against a backdrop of hillside. The younger of the girls bore a noticeable resemblance to Rebekah.

Aside from the photos, the room was bare of any decoration. There was no dust, no mess and not a paper out of place. There was an almost stiflingly clinical quality to the cleanliness here that almost reminded Tonks of her visit to the Dursleys. Raised in clutter as she was, such orderliness always seemed distinctly unnatural.

There were also a great deal of places in which to poke around for clues. The bookshelves were crammed. Folders and files were neatly piled all around the office. There were several locked cabinets and the desk had five closed drawers.

In other words, she had kappa in hell's chance of covering everything before Remus got back.

Great. Just great.

_Take your time, Remus_, she thought silently. _Now is not the time to rush._

The shelves would take hours and probably so would the cabinets. No, trawling through all that stuff was pointless; the best bet for now would be to stick with the desk.

She glanced at the immaculately stacked papers, painfully aware that was unlikely to be able to return them to a similar state of perfection once she had rifled through them. Besides, how likely was it that an intelligent woman like Rebekah Goldstein would leave evidence of a Death Eater conspiracy lying in the open in her in-tray?

Drawers then.

She tried the first drawer on the right. It was locked. She tried the second. It was also locked.

The third burnt her fingers.

Darting back in shock, Tonks just managed to catch the older family photo that the jerky sweep of her elbow had sent flying. Sucking one tender finger, she replaced the photo carefully as she examined the drawer with irritated eyes.

_Bugger_.

Warded. _Seriously _warded. Possibly even wand-sealed.

Tonks allowed herself a moment to swear. She felt that she'd earned it.

More in hope than expectation, she moved to the left and tried the fourth and fifth drawers too. But they neither opened nor burned; both were locked and placid.

She sighed deeply. As far as she could tell, no additional magics appeared to be in place on the four more innocent drawers – a simple _alohamora _would probably do the job. But would anything that opened with a simple _alohamora_ be worth finding?

No. The only draw worth fiddling with was the third drawer on the left. And that wasn't looking very likely.

_Never simple, is it? Never flipping simple._

If it was wand-sealed, the battle was lost before she started – without the wand of Rebekah Goldstein or someone else authorised to access the contents, an army of rampaging giants wouldn't be able to drag the drawer open. But if it was just a ward, then maybe…

She hadn't wanted to mess about with magic – she had no idea what kind of security precautions the Institute might have in place to detect illegal use of a wand. But the very fact that this drawer was so comprehensively locked suggested that any information significant to the investigation was likely to be kept inside and Merlin alone knew if she'd ever get a shot like this again. She had to try or there was just no point in coming.

But if there were alarms…

_Bloody hell. I wonder if they'd believe I was still looking for the toilet._

_Do it. Just do it._

Placing her clipboard carefully down upon the polished desk, Tonks reached for her wand.

And then she heard the footsteps.

"…think I left it in Rebekah's office, Felisha. Hang on, I'll take a look…"

_Cymone!_

There was no time to morph, no time to get out, no time to do anything but swipe her clipboard off the desk and dive unceremoniously beneath it. She winced as she heard the clatter of the box of notepaper tumbling to the floor, its loose sheets tumbling across the carpet and drifting near the desk to join her, victims of a glancing blow from her fingers. The red notebook bounced once and fell open just beside her, notes in a concise, neat hand visible against a slant of light. A tatty scrap of paper had fallen free from its pages and landed with a gentle forward drift upon her foot.

But it was too late to undo the damage, to tidy, to cover her trail – the door creaked open and Cymone's booted feet came shuffling into the room.

Holding her breath, Tonks pressed her herself back against the dark wood as hard as she could, clutching her clipboard tight against her chest. Her eyes drifted to the sheets of paper scattered mere inches from her left leg, to the notebook all but touching her hand. If Cymone bent to retrieve them…

"What the…?"

Stubby, silver nailed fingers closed around the fallen paper box, lifting it from the floor. Tonks heard it drop with a clonk onto the wood just above her head.

_Please leave the paper, please leave the paper, please leave the paper_…

Cymone was muttering rather bad-temperedly as she fiddled around on the desk. "…should just leave it… not a bloody servant… _Accio notepaper_!"

With a flutter, the papers cascaded into the air. Tonks felt the tattered note upon her foot twitch slightly, but it did not follow. She could hear Cymone shuffling the paper as briskly piled it back together within its desk top container.

But there was still the notebook.

Perhaps Cymone had not seen it, would not see it as it lay, half in, half out of the light. Perhaps she could hide it, pull it out of sight; but if Cymone had seen it fall, decided to look under the desk for it, that would be the end of that. Or maybe the other way was the answer; perhaps if she could just push it a little further away, just far enough so that she would not be seen or felt when Cymone leaned down in search of it…

She glanced down at the open pages almost desperately, grasping her wand. Perhaps a subtle pushing spell…

And then she caught a glimpse of the writing. And froze.

_Need Lupin, _it said. Underlined three times.

Pushing spells were forgotten. Her eyes locked on the page as she hurriedly drank in the rest of the visible words.

It was a diary. The date was almost a month previously.

_Need Lupin before first test but keep out of lower levels. Establishing non-rec vital for hold; subject may die w/out it. Care needed - hold fragile but lapse corrected. Also require back-up for res. D-tests – after full moon? Acquire Lupin if possible – v useful for HW work if successful…_

"What's _that_ doing out? _Accio Diary_!"

And then the diary was gone, whipped out of sight as Cymone's feet rounded the desk briskly. Tonks shrank further back into the shadows, daring not to dwell on the confusing words she had just read in an effort to concentrate on not getting caught… _don't bend down, don't bend down, please don't bend down_…

A wand tapped against the third drawer on the right. There was a flare of blue.

"_Liber Emitto_!"

_Liber Emitto. Wand-sealed. Damn!_

The drawer opened. Tonks caught the briefest glimpse of something red and diary-like clattering against the corner of what appeared to be a dark, ebony box but before she could get a better look, the drawer slammed shut, flared blue again and locked with an audible clunk.

"Cymone?" A vaguely familiar female voice drifted in from the reception area. "Are you all right?"

"Coming!" For a few moments more, Tonks heard Cymone bustling about above her, and then, thank Merlin, Circe and Nimue, she turned and scurried out, closing the door behind her. Muffled voices sounded in the reception beyond.

Tonks allowed herself to release the breath she had been holding. Dear Gods, that had been close!

And the diary – why hadn't she looked in the blasted diary when it was just sitting on the desk? _Need Lupin for first test, acquire Lupin if possible_… What did that mean? Just what did they want with Remus?

She fought a chill. Nothing good. She'd bet that much.

Suddenly Tonks really wanted to be anywhere but inside the Feral Institute. And she really, _really_ wanted Remus to be elsewhere with her.

Just what was being done to him up there?

She had to get out of this office. She had to get him out…

She started to rise.

"_Ow!_"

Pain, bright and vivid, echoed through her skull as the top of her head impacted solidly with the underside of the desk. Stars danced before her eyes – she rolled sideways to lie gasping on the floor, dropping her clipboard as she clutched her crown, fighting back the waves of pain. Biting her lip she forced herself to rise, gathering together her scattered clipboard papers hurriedly – she spotted the tatty scrap of paper that had dropped out of the diary and swept that up too - as she scrambled to her feet. She glanced resentfully once at the third drawer on the right, but a wand-seal was a wand-seal – she wouldn't be getting that open in a hurry. The call with Cymone had been too close. She had to get out of here.

Staggering to the door, she gathered herself sharply and placed one ear against the wood. She heard no voices. Tentatively, nervously, still struggling against waves of pain, she turned the handle and slowly peered around the door.

Reception was empty.

Well, at least _something _had gone her way.

Moving rapidly, Tonks stepped back into reception and turned to close the door behind her.

"What are you doing?"

Tonks jumped violently, her eyes darting back over her shoulder. She froze.

Felisha Hathaway was standing in the mouth of the corridor, hands on hips. She was regarding her with outright suspicion.

Tonks smiled as brightly and vapidly as she could as she clutched her clipboard, her throbbing head blanking her mind of any excuse as she desperately turned to face the researcher with Undine-esque blitheness. Almost unconsciously, she found herself jiggling on her feet.

Felisha's eyebrow raised as her eyes drank in the strained smile and the nervous shuffling. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

"If you're looking for the toilet," she remarked helpfully. "It's just down the hall."

Tonks' smile was the dawning of utter relief. "Oh really? Thanks ever so, I do get turned around in here!"

And then clutching her clipboard, she turned and fled the reception, breathing deeply in and out as she rushed away from Felisha's slightly bemused stare. Thank Merlin for nervous twitching!

**A/N**: Many thanks to **Sycogerl64, Sky Spade, felixgirl, Cheesy Monkey, Howling-Wolf, SilverStar24, Hiro No Tsuki, Analia's Broom, sylthian, FireChild:Slytherin5, Kitana, aurelie1, eryn lasgalen elf, Liv Naravul **and** The Great RC** for your reviews. As always, I appreciate you all. :)

A few specific responses:

**Sycogerl64** – I try to update weekly, on Wednesday nights. :) I'm glad you're enjoying it:)

**Sky Spade** – In my version of his back-story, Remus has turned feral twice – once on the night he was bitten and once in 1981, although these incidents are not public knowledge. But he had two "near misses" during the course of Oblivious too…

**Howling-Wolf **– Well, as much as I liked embarrassing Remus, I had to get them past it for plot purposes…;) Tonks will always find ammunition, don't you worry ;) and indeed, Remus is expecting a whole world of fun and excitement…;)

**Hiro No Tsuki** – It's hard to say what would happen, but going voluntarily feral will always have an effect on the mind. So he'd probably be grown up and insane instead.

**Kitana** – I'm glad you're enjoying it. :) The whole Dementor-Feral Kiss issue is one that just occurred one day and refused to leave me alone. I wasn't sure how people would react to it so I'm glad it's gone down well:)

**Liv Naravul** – Don't worry, between Tonks and Felisha, you will find out more about the Bathroom Incident. The trouble is now, I'm not sure it can ever live up to the hype…;) And ummmm…. Thanks for the offer regarding my boots, but I think I'll stick with ordinary polish for now…;)

**The Great RC** – As soon as I found out what Phelan meant, I knew I had to use it somewhere. ;)

Again, many thanks for your reviews and I hope you enjoy and review this chapter too:)


	8. Back and Forth

_**8: Back and Forth**_

Remus' reception on his arrival with Aylward in the outer chamber of Kane's cell was about as warm and friendly as Severus Snape's dungeon. Croll, who was measuring what Remus suspected was a powerful sedative into a vial, honoured him with an oily smirk and a nod. Rebekah, who was gazing through the clear glass with a strange intensity, raised one eyebrow as he entered but otherwise failed to acknowledge him at all.

As Aylward closed the door behind them, Remus lingered awkwardly for a moment, his eyes straying to the glass pane and the imprisoned feral beyond. Kane's chamber looked much different than it had before – the blankets and pillows had been restored to an unruly pallet in one corner, the wooden bowl and what appeared to be a chamber pot sitting battered if intact on a small shelf on the wall opposite. The walls bore the scars of past temper tantrums but the damage was slight and easily ignored. After the previous chaos, the calm within was almost eerie.

And in the centre of the floor sat Kane. He was cross-legged, his robe ragged at the cuffs and stained with food, his hair tangled and his eyes wide as he gazed down with intense concentration at the scruffy red ball that he was batting between one hand and the other. He seemed utterly absorbed by the motion.

"The ball calms him." Although Rebekah's gaze did not shift from the feral, her voice drifted out towards Remus and his quizzical stare. "We've no idea why. But it does at least mean we'll be able to enter the cell today. He rarely loses his temper when he's playing with it like that."

Remus felt himself shiver slightly. Memories tugged against his mind, Kane's claws at his throat, his full moon teeth tearing chunks out of skin and fur… Although he had quite decisively come to terms with the events of the previous autumn, it was hard to shake the overhanging recollections of all that the feral had done. He had not realised until that moment just how much he had been hoping that Kane would once again be too upset to disturb.

Croll's eyes fixed upon his suddenly pale features. He smiled unpleasantly.

"No need to worry, professor," he drawled unctuously, tapping one long finger against the vial he had just filled. "Mr Aylward and I will be standing by if Kane becomes unruly. This sedative induces a rapid stupor in even the most hardy of feral constitutions."

"We're wasting time." Abruptly Rebekah turned on her heel, wheeling towards Remus with a stern and unyielding glare as though he and not she had been the one delaying. "Croll, make sure to take notes. Professor, if you'd join me?"

In spite of private flare of resentment at being so commanded, Remus bit his lip and fell in at Rebekah's side. "What exactly is the plan?" he asked softly, carefully concealing any hint of nervousness or discomfort from his tone. "Just walk in, wave at him and see what happens?"

Rebekah's lip curled slightly in the corner. "Essentially, yes. We need to look for any sign of recognition, any hint that his previous feral personality may still be present, however fractured, within his mind. We need to establish whether or not he still poses a danger."

"By confronting him with me." Remus fought back another shiver. "The one person whose presence is most likely to enrage him to the point of violence."

"It's sound scientific method."

"It's waving a red rag to a bull to find out whether or not he's blind."

Rebekah's smile was more than a little unnerving. "But we'll certainly know the truth afterwards. Wouldn't you agree?"

_Oh yes_, Remus thought sardonically to himself. _If he rips me to pieces, he remembers me. An indisputable truth indeed. And somehow, I doubt she'd mourn me._

But he prudently chose not to voice these thoughts out loud. And Rebekah simply absorbed his silence and smiled again.

At the small, heavily locked door that led into Kane's cell stood Aylward, his wand tapping out an intricate pattern to release the spells that bound it. Bracing himself, he gave the door a final rap and stepped back.

The door opened.

And then Rebekah Goldstein stepped inside and beckoned him to follow.

The smell of Kane's cell was less than inviting. Stale sweat, old food and a hint of blood mingled with the stench of ammonia and just the slightest tinge of fur that implied that this was also the place where Kane endured his transformations. Remus gagged briefly in the doorway, bravely fighting down the urge to retch as his mind flashed up unpleasant half-remembered images of the Shrieking Shack. The odour there, born of too many moons alone, had been much the same.

Rebekah waited in silence a few yards inside as he joined her, still fighting to ignore the stench as he clenched his hands at his sides. Aylward did not close the door behind them but stood, looming, wand at the ready by the entrance. Behind the invisible glass, Croll could not be seen.

Kane did not move. He did not look up. He did not make any sign that he was aware that he had company.

Back and forth went the ball…

Rebekah cleared her throat. "Abraham," she said, her voice low but firm. "Abraham Kane. Look at me."

Kane did not look. He did not even twitch. Back and forth went the ball, back and forth, back and forth…

"Abraham Kane." Rebekah's was louder now, more strident, more commanding. "You have a visitor. Look at your visitor, Abraham."

But he did not. He did not look. He did not care for anything, it seemed, but back and forth, back and forth, always back and forth…

"You see?" There was frustration and annoyance in Rebekah's tone. "He doesn't respond. He doesn't even recognise his name."

But Remus knew why.

It wasn't his name.

It was sometimes easy to forget that the full truth of his family's history with the feral known as Abraham Kane was not public knowledge. Thanks to the work of the ever-charming Rita Skeeter, most of the wizarding world was aware that Kane had been responsible for making Remus a werewolf at the tender age of just three years but few if any knew of Kane's true motives for the attack and both Remus and his father were happy to let it stay that way. He'd been accused of collaboration with the feral in the past and knowing they shared a link by blood would have been fuel to feed a fiery blaze.

But with that link concealed, as was Kane's true name, the name he had only abandoned after being bitten by the werewolf Hel. And with his feral mind now gone…

"May I try?" The query was soft.

Rebekah shrugged. "Be my guest."

Carefully, quietly, Remus leaned forward, resting his hands against his knees. "Abel," he said quietly.

Back and…

The ball rolled unheeded, unstopped, away into the corner. Brown eyes fixed upon him with an intensity that was alarming.

He heard Rebekah gasp. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the shock and confusion that registered on her features.

"Hello Abel," he repeated softly.

The eyes did not leave his face. They burrowed into him beneath frowning brows, deep, sharp, piercing, searching his expression with a sudden dawning, a hint, a twist and then a flare of something Remus had prayed he would not find within his gaze.

_Recognition_.

"You." The words were low, uncertain. "I know you."

_He knows me. Oh Merlin_.

_But how can that be? Unless…_

"Aylward." A step behind him, Rebekah's voice was filled with alarm.

"Wait." Remus raised a hand that forestalled that security wizard's advance, desperately fighting down the urge to get the hell out of the room with all the strength he had. Appalling as the prospect was that some part of Kane remained, something was nagging at him, a sense, a feeling, that this wasn't right somehow, that things weren't quite as they seemed. A suspicion was whispering within his mind. And in this of all things, he had to be sure…

Ignoring Rebekah's distinct look of fear, he turned back to face Kane's bright eyes. "How do you know me?" he asked gently. "Where have you seen me before?"

"You came." Kane spoke the words almost as though he was unaware of them, as though speaking thoughts out loud. "You came to the place where many children were. You came to see me there."

"Hogwarts." Rebekah's voice was agitated. "Professor, he _clearly _remembers, we need to leave before…"

"Just a minute." He heard the researcher's huff of anger as he raised his hand once more. "I don't think he means Hogwarts."

He turned back to Kane. "Why did I come?" he said, maintaining his quiet and level tone as best he could. "Why did I come to see you?"

Kane's voice was suddenly sharper, harder, almost accusing. "A home. You said I could have a home. You said I could come home with you." His eyes narrowed. "You said you were my uncle."

_Dad. _

_Of course._

The anxious hand that had closed around his heart released its grip abruptly. _Kane_ wasn't remembering him at all. _Abel_ had mistaken him for the uncle who had come one day to the children's home and asked if he'd like to be adopted. He had mistaken Remus for _Reynard_…

"_Uncle_?" There was a strained note to Rebekah's voice now. "Professor, what…"

"He doesn't remember me." Remus' interruption was quiet but firm. "There's no need to worry, Rebekah. This isn't Kane the feral; it's the ten-year old boy. He's mistaken me for my father."

"Your father?" There was an acid note to Rebekah's confusion. "Why would he do that?"

Remus breathed deeply. It was safe to say that Rebekah Goldstein was one of the last people alive with whom he wished to discuss his family history.

"We look very alike," he remarked vaguely.

The dodge did not go unnoticed. "That isn't what I meant. How does he know your father, Professor?"

Remus sighed. It seemed there was no avoiding it. "Because my father almost adopted him once," he admitted, carefully dancing around the fact that the adoption had been offered because Kane had been Reynard's sister's only son. "When he was orphaned, my father considered taking him in. He changed his mind." He pursed his lips wearily. "That was one of the reasons his feral self later targeted us so deliberately. Or rather targeted _me_."

Behind him, there was silence. Rebekah, it seemed, was at a loss for words.

"You didn't come back." The words, low but distinct, drew Remus' attention instantly back to Kane. The feral was half crouched now and something unpleasant was gleaming in his eyes as they roamed over Remus' face with gradually swelling hatred. "You left me there."

The cold fist clenched around his heart once more as he realised the sudden danger. Mistaken identity was no protection. Abel had hated his father before he had ever turned feral.

He rose slowly, carefully, his eyes never leaving Kane's contorting features as he took one soft step back. His eyes flickered towards Rebekah.

"Time to leave. Now."

Rebekah could read the danger signs as well as he had. "Agreed."

"You went away…"

"Aylward." This time Remus did not forestall the security man's approach, as he backed with agonising slow caution in the direction of the door. Now was not the time for sudden moves.

"You went away and _never came back_."

"Aylward!" Rebekah's voice was shrill. Kane's eyes glowed with rage.

"I hate you."

Three yards to the door…

"I _hate_ you!"

Two yards…

"_I hate you!_"

One…

"_Hate you!_" With a scream of fury, Kane launched himself forwards with fingers outstretched as though to tear the very air apart and cast its shards against his foe. "_Hateyouhateyouhateyouhateyou!_"

"_Stupefy_!" Aylward's curse caught Kane squarely in the chest, hurling him backwards with violent force, but it was immediately clear that whatever his mental state, his feral resilience to magic remained; with only a slight shake of the head, he came back to his feet, face filled with hurt and rage. Aylward's normally impassive expression blanched slightly but he held his ground, wand extended against the fresh charge as the feral barrelled forwards once more.

"_Hateyouhateyouhateyouhateyou_…"

Half through the doorway, Remus fumbled for his wand. Behind him, Rebekah's was already drawn.

"_Impedimenta!_"

"_Imperio!_"

And everything was still.

Aylward's Impediment jinx had slowed Kane. But the Imperius curse of Rebekah Goldstein had stopped him dead.

Remus stared in disbelief. But Rebekah's eyes never left Kane.

"Croll," she said sharply.

Still half-shaken by shock, Remus stepped hurriedly aside as Arcadius Croll strode through the doorway, vial of potion extended in one hand before him. He held it out to Kane.

"Drink it," Rebekah commanded. "Drink it all."

Mindless and obedient, Kane took the vial from Croll's fingers and downed it in a single gulp. For a moment, he simply stood. But then his eyes rolled towards the ceiling, he swayed and teetered on his feet and then collapsed in a heap on the floor.

With a brisk motion, Rebekah shook herself and sheathed her wand. "Aylward, put him on his pallet," she ordered with a remarkably casual air. "Croll, check his vital signs. Professor, join me please."

Remus was only to happy to step out of the cell as the two men moved to obey Rebekah's commands. He could feel his heart thumping; his mind was racing with shock. How could that have happened? How could…?

"Professor, don't look at me like that." Rebekah's brusque interruption cut into his confusion. "I have the permission of the Minister of Magic to perform that curse. If you insist, I can show you the documents."

"It's not that." Things were clicking into place in Remus' mind, settling into a pattern that filled his chest with icy dread. It had not occurred to him before, not even crossed his mind for it was such an absolute, unshakeable fact of lycanthropy. But Rebekah's theory explained that fact too well and now…

Now it would work. For Kane, the dubious safety net was gone.

And maybe that was just what the Death Eaters wanted. Just what they needed in fact.

And the implications of that were appalling.

Abruptly, Remus turned to face Rebekah, praying his eyes did not expose the shakiness he felt. "I'm not shocked that you used an Unforgivable, although it was rather a surprise," he said, his voice resonating through the small chamber. "I'm shocked because it shouldn't have worked in the first place." He breathed deeply. "I'm shocked, Professor Goldstein, because you are the first person who has ever successfully used the Imperius curse on a werewolf. And that is quite a feat."

Rebekah's smile was cool and calm. "Well, Professor," she replied. "Not, it seems, anymore."

**A/N**: For anyone who hasn't read Oblivious, or can't remember this particular factoid from that vast ream of information ;), here is a quick summary of Remus' speech on the subject of werewolves and the Imperius Curse from way, way back in Oblivious Chapter Six:

"_Now, the Imperius Curse, as I'm sure you're all aware, puts the human mind into a dreamlike state in order that it be more pliable, more open to suggestion. The victim must then watch helplessly as his or her body performs acts that they themselves do not wish. I have been told that the experience is quite blissful at the time." Remus paused, resting one hand against the wall. "Excepting the bliss, being placed under the Imperius Curse is very similar to what occurs with the mind of a Wolfsbane-free werewolf at full moon… The human part of the mind fades, drops into a kind of numbness as the wolf's mind takes control… But the human mind is, in some part, still aware. The senses of a werewolf are very different to a human's, very difficult to interpret and comprehend, so the images the human takes away from the full moon are confused, half-forgotten, vague impressions, no more. But you always know that you are trapped – that this is your body, what's left of it, and you have no control. The wolf can do as it pleases and you can only watch… The same, as every werewolf knows, applies to the wolf during the rest of the month. It is, to some extent, aware. Waiting. And that is why the Imperius Curse is ineffective. The moment the victim's mind succumbs to the curse, it replicates the numbing of their mind at full moon. The moment the human mind shuts down enough for it to be controlled, the wolf steps in and takes over."_

_Hermione gasped. "It makes you transform?"_

"_No, there is no transformation. A werewolf can only change form under the full moon… It is a kind of inverted Wolfsbane effect. The wolf's mind takes over the human body. And there are few forces on earth more powerful. If the caster of the Imperius is lucky, they are simply thrown backwards by the force of their expulsion. If they are unlucky, the power of the backlash could kill them."_

There you go. Hope that makes things clearer. :)

Many Thanks to **Sour Pickle, The Great RC, Howling-wolf, sylthian, Wade Scott, felixgirl, Sycogerl64, JennyJoy4, Living Soul Desire, Thee-Unknown-Factor, Cheesy Monkey **and** Analia's Broom** for your nice reviews! They as always, the light of my life and joy of my soul… and much appreciated. ;)

**A Few Responses**:

**Howling-wolf** – Oh yes, you will. I have plans for that box…;)

**sylthian** – I do intend to use Tonks' perspective again. That chapter was kind of an experiment to see if I could do her justice. :)

**Wade Scott** – I did think about having them try and retrieve more information via a pensieve but the problem there would be that unlike hearing a conversation, they are looking at an item and they can't turn the pages of a memory…. But it was a good thought and thanks very much for your nice remarks:)

**Sycogerl64** – I'm trying to insure that non-Oblivious readers can at least keep up, but yes, slogging through Oblivious will make things clearer. Glad you enjoyed it:)

**JennyJoy4** – I actually hadn't thought of that! Doh! ;) But that being said, I reckon if his assistant gets caught snooping around, Remus isn't likely to get another invitation…

**Living Soul Desire** – I am considering including a romance in this fic. I just haven't decided if a) I will and b) if I do, with whom and what the implications would be. ;) And I hope the above has helped your interest in Kane's psychological state…:)

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the above and all reviews and feedback make me happy. :)


	9. Vulnerable

_**9: Vulnerable**_

"Oh _Merlin_."

From her seat opposite him, alone in their warded compartment of the Muggle steam train, Tonks stared at Remus with wide eyes and pale features, her fingers twitching nervously with the papers of her clipboard. A narrow, winding valley flashed past the windows, casting flickers of light and shade across her face.

"You think that's it?" she whispered softly, her tone rich with fear and horror. "You think that's what the Death Eaters want with Kane? With the Institute?"

"I'm certain." Remus leaned back wearily against the rather threadbare pattern that covered the seats, gazing at the passing landscape without really seeing at all, his mind lost to the prospect of potential horror that had so recently taken an unshakable hold in his thoughts. "Folke said Imperius first. He realised the awfulness of this as much as I have."

Tonks was shaking her head slowly back and forth. "But it's just Kane who's vulnerable," she said, a hint of something close to desperation edging her tone. "I know that's bad but is one werewolf under an Imperius curse at full moon so much more dangerous than he would have been without it?"

Remus closed his eyes. "Possibly not. But imagine the prospect for Lord Voldemort – creatures as dangerous as a werewolf at full moon on his side, but without the risk of them turning on their allies or handlers in the heat of battle. No need for bribes or tricks or promises – one spell and they have a killing machine at their disposal that can increase their numbers with a single bite." He fought down a shiver. "There are more than _forty _werewolves in that building alone, Tonks, and the Dementors are answering to Voldemort now. A few well-placed Kisses and the Death Eaters will find themselves with an army that are werewolves on the full moon, feral for the rest of the month and completely under their control."

"And every full moon bite increases their ranks. Until we're completely outnumbered." Tonks swallowed hard. "Bloody hell, Remus. What are we going to _do_?"

It was a good question. And at the moment, Remus had no answer to it.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I suppose on our next visit to the Institute, we'll have to…"

"Wait… _what_?" A look of unmistakable alarm flashed across Tonks' features as she sat bolt upright. "What do you mean _next visit_?"

Remus gazed at her with frank surprise. "In a fortnight. Rebekah's asked me to come back again. She says there are a few more things she'd like to try."

Tonks' fingers clenched. "I'll _bet_ there are," she almost snarled. "Remus, weren't you _listening _when I told you about that diary entry?"

Remus met her glare calmly. "I was listening."

"Well then, perhaps you missed the subtle inference?" The Auror regarded him fiercely. "_Need_ Lupin, _acquire_ Lupin, talking about _tests_... It's glaringly obvious, Remus; _they want to do this to you_."

"I had spotted the implications."

"And you still want to go back? To lock yourself in a high-security building full of people who want to suck out your soul and use you to _kill_?"

Remus closed his eyes, laying his head back quietly as he listened to the rattle and clunk of the trundling train. "I've thought of that, Tonks," he said softly. "But if I don't go back, what then? We have no proof we can take to the Ministry. No one else from the Order will be able to get access to the Institute in time. We are the only ones who can find that evidence or are in a position to do anything about it. It's a risk for me, yes, but a risk I have to take."

Tonks hunched forward, her eyes suddenly intense. "Then let me take the risk instead. Next time we go, you can polyjuice as me and I'll morph into you. That way…"

Remus' eyes snapped open. "_No_."

"Remus…"

"Absolutely _not_." It was Remus' turn to sit forwards, his face now just inches from hers. "Do you think I would ever, _ever _agree to putting you in that kind of danger? That it's somehow more acceptable for you to risk getting Kissed in my place?" He shook his head emphatically. "Out of the question, Tonks."

Her eyes flared. "But I can't protect you any other way in there!"

"I've never asked you to protect me."

"I know _that_. But it doesn't stop me wanting to."

There was a long silence. Their eyes locked. Remus was suddenly, almost uncomfortably aware of how close her face was to his.

The whistle of the steam engine echoed the length of the train and Tonks jumped violently, spilling her clipboard and its loose sheath of papers across the floor of their compartment. Swearing fluently, she scrambled off her seat, forcing Remus to sit back hurriedly to avoid a clash of heads. She shot him an apologetic glance and he smiled at her as he leaned down towards the window instead, gathering a few loose sheets and a tatty little scrap of grubby paper that had drifted out from in amongst them.

"So bloody clumsy," Tonks was muttering to herself as dropped back into her seat, grasping the untidy bundle of loose paper she had gathered in one hand and the weak clipped clipboard in the other. "I need to get a folder or something less spillable. No, hang onto those for a sec, mate, while I sort these out," she added, forestalling Remus' offer of the papers he had gathered. "It'll just be more to drop again otherwise."

Smiling, Remus settled back, glancing down as he placed the papers on his lap. They were mostly cover – notes on werewolf research, on the history of the Institute and new theories about Wolfsbane, not to mention…

_Bound. Trapped._

Remus froze.

There they were. Two little words, scrawled upon the tatty scrap that he'd swept up but barely noticed, written in a hand that shook so wildly that the script was hard to read. But it was also unmistakably familiar.

The wild handwriting on the potion and blood stained tip off note that Kingsley had shown him that first morning in the briefing after the death of Folke had been exactly the same.

"Remus?" Tonks had noticed his distraction, her heart-shaped face filled with curious concern. "What is it?"

He touched the scrap, lifting it and holding it up. "Tonks, where did you get this?"

For a moment, her expression was bewildered but then recognition flared. "It was in the diary!" she exclaimed. "It fell out under the desk when I knocked it off. I picked it up with my papers after I hit my head, but after that close call with Felisha I completely forgot I had it. Why, what…"

He handed it to her wordlessly. She took it with a frown, glanced down and froze just as he had.

"The tip off," she whispered.

Remus nodded. "Which means the tip off probably came from someone in the Institute."

Tonks blinked. "A trap?" she said at once. "To lure _you _there maybe?"

He shook his head at once. "Not me, I don't think. The message was sent to the Aurors. Even if they knew of my links to you and Kingsley, how would they have known that any message would reach me?"

"Then a real tip off? From someone who knows what's really going on and doesn't like it? Or possibly can't do anything to stop it?"

"That seems more likely. Especially given the sentiment of _that_ note."

Tonks swallowed. "A prisoner?"

"Possibly."

She shook her head. "But then why would this have been tucked inside Rebekah Goldstein's diary?" Her face paled slightly. "Unless the note-sender got _caught_ by Rebekah…"

Remus gave her a long, slow look. "Don't jump to conclusions, Tonks. For all we know, she _sent _it."

"You'd think she'd be happier to see you. And that she'd have tried to say something in all that time you and she were alone."

Remus shook his head. "Tonks, we don't even know for sure that was her diary."

"It was on her desk. Cymone put it in her drawer."

Frowning, Remus reached down and rooted for a moment in his pocket. "Here," he said, holding out the now rather battered and well-folded scroll that had provided his initial invitation to the Institute. "This was from Rebekah. How does the handwriting compare?"

Tonks ran her eyes over the crumpled paper. Her brow creased instantly.

"It was dark under that desk," she ventured.

"Tonks…"

"All right, all right!" Tonks thrust the scroll back into his hand. "It doesn't look the same. But we don't know that Rebekah wrote that note personally!"

"She signed it."

"But she might not have written it out. She's got an assistant for menial tasks like that, remember?" The Auror pulled a face. "Remus, why are you being so awkward about this?"

Remus sighed. "You're assuming she's the Death Eater?"

"You're assuming she's _not_?" Tonks waved the note with a flourish. "Remus…"

Remus gave a long sigh. "I'm not trying to be annoying. But if the events of the last few years have taught me anything, it's that one should never assume the obvious to be true. Look at Sirius. Everyone though he was guilty, didn't they?" Tonks winced slightly and he managed a reassuring smile. "If we close our minds to other possibilities, we may become so caught up in our assumptions that we miss the truth. I'll admit – you have several very compelling points that I will bear in mind. But I'm sticking with innocent until proven guilty for now."

Tonks cocked an eyebrow. "You have far too much faith, Remus Lupin. She has a wand-sealed drawer in her office and a diary containing secret notes about doing tests on you. She's openly hostile towards you but keeps on inviting you back. And she cast the Imperius curse on Kane when any other spell would have done. That all sounds pretty guilty to me." Suddenly she clicked her fingers. "Of course! That's why she was so keen to find out if Kane recognised you! She wanted to be absolutely sure his feral half was gone! She must know the dangerous of Imperius on a werewolf, she's an _expert_ on them. And if some hint of the wolf had remained…"

"She'd have been injured by the backlash." Remus completed the thought, trying to ignore the sudden cold chill in his chest. "Possibly even killed. She had to be absolutely sure her werewolf essence theory was correct before she could risk trying it for herself…"

"Exactly." Tonks sat back with an emphatic nod. Her eyes were suddenly bright. "And they'll need more tests," she added suddenly. "Because she only Imperiused the mind of a deranged ten-year old. Who's to say trying to Imperius the werewolf side wouldn't be just as dangerous as it normally is?"

"They've a long way to go with this." Remus' voice was soft against the slowing clatter of the train as it approached the pretty little village station. "At least if we assume that really was the first Imperius she's tried. They'll need more tests. More _werewolves_." His eyes hardened. "We have to find a way to get downstairs next time. To the residents level. We have to know what's _really _happening down there."

"The level that her diary says she wants you kept out of," Tonks added, accepting the last of her papers as she came to her feet. "Agreed. Still think Rebekah's innocent?"

Remus pulled a face. "Just let me keep an open mind, all right?"

"You do that." Tonks grinned. "And I will remain suspicious, if that's okay with you."

"If you must."

"I must. And my suspicious mind says she's got a fortnight to work with. If only we were going back sooner…"

"There's nothing we can do about that." Remus rose too, pulling back the compartment door as they joined the gaggle of tourists stepping off onto the platform. "We know better than anyone that you don't get into that place unless you're invited. And you're still assuming it's Rebekah. A lot of people have access to that office. I say again - we don't know the diary was hers."

"I'm going to run checks," Tonks declared, shuffling her papers as she followed Remus out of the platform gate and towards a quiet corner of the car park. "Rebekah, Croll, Cymone, Aylward, Zelia Phelan, Dolph – even Felisha." She shrugged apologetically but he smiled his wan agreement. "I want to know if anyone with access to that office has even so much as brushed past a Death Eater in the street."

"Good idea." An old fashioned car started up nearby with a shudder and a bang. "Come on, let's get back to Hogsmeade. I think Dumbledore will want to hear about this."

Tonks nodded, joining him as he stepped behind the concealing bulk of an empty white transit van. And then, as the classic car coughed and spluttered its way out of the car park, the two cracks of their apparation went quite unnoticed.

------------------------------------------

The full moon glowed deeply before it was swallowed behind the concealing bulk of clouds that sat over the mountains. But its influence was no less intense.

Remus stretched his lupine form from paw to tail tip, wishing heartily as he did so that the tension that strung his muscles taut could be attributed entirely to the stress of the change. But life was not so simple.

Dumbledore had absorbed their suspicions regarding Rebekah Goldstein and the potential Imperius cursing of werewolves with grave-eyed concern. But his assessment of the situation had echoed Remus'; there was distressingly little they could do until their next invited visit. With help from Kingsley, Tonks had devoted every moment she could sneak whilst at work to research the staff of the Institute but thus far she had not managed to dig up anything of relevance to the investigation. The profound distraction of a Death Eater attack on Muggle tourists in Devon had rather stymied her attempts to find spare time.

Remus, on the other hand, had not even had the consolation of investigating. With the help of Madam Pince, he had tracked down Rebekah's book on ferals in the Hogwarts library, not to mention a dull and tedious tome on the physiology of shape-shifting species by Croll and he spent those hours not used to teach or mark trawling through in search of any glimmer of useful information. He had yet to find a thing.

And so, all things considered, Remus had found himself more than a little tense by the time Wednesday night's full moon had rolled around. With that in mind, he had prepared himself carefully, taking his last dose of Wolfsbane promptly, wand-sealing his office door closed and placing his clothes and wand safely into a desk drawer. Aware of the necessity of remaining as calm as possible for an easy transformation, he had arranged his surroundings with intent for a relaxing night, laying out a plate of sandwiches in case he grew peckish, charming a music box to play the soothing tones of _Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis_ on a repeating loop and placing Croll's book open within reading distance – even if he couldn't be bothered to read it, he thought more with longing than any real intent, it would give him something to chew on. It was a nice thought but he knew deep down that the wrath of Madam Pince would be fearsome to behold if he were to dare.

And then he had opened the window slightly, settled down with a cushion under the gaudy yellow blanket that Molly Weasley had given him for his birthday and waited for the contortions of moonrise.

And they had come, as they inevitably did.

A half hour, perhaps, had passed now since the change. Remus had chewed half-heartedly at one of the sandwiches for a while and glanced down at Croll's book for a few minutes before coming to the conclusion that he just couldn't bring himself to care about anything it said. So instead he had closed his eyes, allowing the music to wash over him and lull him into the quiet of sleep. If nothing else, he needed the rest…

"Ow!"

A flare of light jerked Remus back from the dark abyss of sleep, punctuated by the sharp rattling of the door handle. Vaguely, he could hear voices.

"Look, he's not moving! He's not answering! The door is magically sealed! You heard what McGonagall and Dumbledore said! What if he's been attacked? _Alohamora!_"

As Remus blinked, the door flared again. There was another yelp of pain.

"Don't think that's helping, mate," came a second, much sleepier voice. "Maybe he's just dropped off at his desk…"

The music was sweeping once more through a stirring passage but it was not enough to obscure the familiar voices that had dragged him from his snoozing.

_Harry?Ron?_

"In the dark?" was the fierce reply. "And why would he seal the door?"

"Harry…"

_Oh dear_. Remus struggled to rouse himself as a voice pierced the wood of the door sharply. It was not an easy task. Half asleep and dozily forgetful of his present less than human condition, he started to call out but the resultant gruff bark was entirely obscured by the swell of the music. Not that it would have mattered as he routinely placed one-way silencing charms over his office door at such times of the month. Without his wand, nothing he could do would make Harry hear him.

And Harry, it seemed, aware from the Marauder's Map that his teacher was inside but unable to hear his reply or enter the heavily sealed door, had for some reason jumped to the conclusion that he was in danger…

"Professor Lupin, are you all right? Professor? I know you're in there, I've got the map! Are you all right? Why is the door locked?"

Wearily, Remus reminded himself to ask Professor Sinistra about Harry's OWL Astronomy marks. He had clearly forgotten the current phase of the moon.

"Look, we're coming round, okay? Just hold on! Ron, come on!"

_Coming round?_ Remus wanted to cry out. _Coming round to where?_

The sound of running footsteps could be heard vanishing down the corridor. With a weary huff, Remus sank his muzzle into his cushion and slowly shook his head. Why on earth Harry had decided to come and see him at this time of night, he really had no idea. But if he hauled the castle into uproar over a mysterious attack on Remus that really wasn't an attack at all…

_Oh good grief. Snape will have a field day if he hears about this…_

Once again, there was little he could do but wait for the inevitable and so wait he did. The room was dark now, the guttering lantern on his desk extinguished as he slept, the sun fully set, the moon lost behind thick tufts of Scottish cloud. The wind whistled softly past the open window…

The _window_. No, surely Harry wouldn't…

Harry would.

He heard the approach of the broomstick just moments before a pale face crowned with scruffy black hair swept into view outside the window. Green eyes peered intently into the room as a poised wand darted into view.

"_Lumos!_" The wand flared. "Professor Lupin?" he bellowed just as a second head, a dishevelled mop of red hair over a sleepy freckled face also hovered into view.

Remus stood up.

And with a considerable sense of timing, the moon chose that moment to slide out from behind its concealing cloud and bathe the scene in silver light.

Harry stopped dead. Ron blinked.

"Blimey," he said.

Clearly being curled up on the floor with cushions and a Molly Weasley blanket, eating sandwiches, reading and listening to classical music was not exactly how Harry and Ron had expected a werewolf to pass the full moon. In spite of himself, Remus couldn't help but feel vaguely embarrassed.

He considered smiling but was rather concerned it might appear to be baring his teeth. He settled for cocking his head in what he hoped was a friendly manner.

Harry's mouth was working silently. He swallowed hard. "I…" he managed. "Professor Lupin, I'm really sorry, I completely forgot it was…" He gestured helplessly towards the gleaming moon. "I wanted to talk to you but… It can wait. It really can." He gave an awkward frown. "I'm _really_ sorry," he said again. "I'll just… go. Come on Ron."

Harry's dark head vanished from view. Ron's lingered a little longer.

"I'll tell mum you liked the blanket," he remarked sleepily. "'Night, Professor."

Remus nodded slightly as Ron too vanished back into the night before dropping quietly back onto his cushion and absently staring into the darkness.

Now what on earth had _that_ been about?

Out of his vague sleepy memory, something stirred. _You heard what McGonagall and Dumbledore said…_Those had been Harry's words. Just what had he overheard now? What was so urgent that he had come looking for him in the middle of the night?

He felt a cold chill. What had he found out?

He forced himself to calm. There was no point in worrying about it now. It wasn't as though he could track Harry down and have a heart-to-heart with him in his present condition. Come the morning though…

Huffing wearily, Remus settled back down to the strains of his soothing music. But it was a long time before he fell asleep.

**A/N**: The idea for the second scene of this chapter came from a strange dream I had quite a while ago now in which Harry happened across Remus the werewolf at Grimmauld Place in just such a setup. I was so taken with the idea that I was determined to write it in some how; though a place in _Oblivious_ failed to materialise, I did manage to find it a spot here…;)

Many thanks to **Thee-Unknown-Factor, Howling-Wolf, Vefa, mercutio-rane, sylthian, Liv Naravul, Kelsid, aurelie1, Analia's Broom, Adre, Lucathia Rykatu, Rel Fexive **&** Sycogerl64** for your nice reviews! They are, as always, much appreciated. :)

**Howling-wolf** – As you can see from above, Remus will be returning to the Institute. Whether or not that is a good idea remains to be seen…;)

**Vefa** – Welcome and I'm glad you've enjoyed Oblivious and Imperius so much! If you liked chapter 37, you ought to check out In From The Cold on my profile – it's a rewrite of that chapter and the one after but with the emphasis on the hitherto played down romantic aspects…;) I've always tried to write Tonks as an intelligent woman as well as a lively and clumsy one – after all she must have got pretty good marks from Hogwarts to get onto Auror training in the first place! I hope you keep reading and enjoying:)

**mercutio-rane** – Quite right. If only there was more Lupin to go around, the world would be a better place. ;)

**Liv Naravul** – I suspect trying to hug Abel would even now lead to some manner of mauling…;) I'm glad I've made Tonks more palatable for you:) Undine is a real first name I encountered on a form at work and had Remus conjure up for Tonks on the spot because it means "water-nymph" and he thought it fitted with Nymphadora. Tonks didn't agree…;)

**Kelsid** & **Lucathia Rykatu** – Glad you found Imperius and I hope you enjoy it:)

**Adre** – Kane has become a bit of a paradox, hasn't he? But feeling sorry for a mentally ill serial killer doesn't change the fact he is still a serial killer….

**Rel** – Aha! I knew you'd crack! ;) But seriously, welcome aboard and I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far! Concepts are fun… :)


	10. In The Open

_**10: Into the Open**_

Morning came and with it, a blessed return to humanity. There was always something deeply satisfying about waking up, aching but human, and realising another full cycle of the moon lay between him and another wolfish night. But relief did not prevent his tiredness and nor did it waylay the personally important necessity of not letting his condition impact upon his job.

"So," Remus hoped very much that no students in his fifth year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw class had noticed his attempt to stifle a yawn as he leaned against his desk, quietly praying for the imminent bell and a much needed lunchtime nap. "In conclusion, what is the most important thing to remember when dealing with an object that has potentially been cursed?" He ran his eyes over the sea of hands. "Luna?"

Luna Lovegood smiled vaguely. "Look out for Spurglepuffs," she remarked dreamily. "They feed off cursed objects, you know. And if you let a Crumple-Horned Snorkack lick over it, you can tell if the object is cursed by the colour its tongue goes…"

Remus was rather proud that he managed to keep his face so straight. "A unique, if rather unconventional approach," he remarked as titters rose from the rest of the students present. "But I was looking more for something we had covered in class. He hesitated a moment before making his next selection. "Ginny?"

The youngest Weasley's smile was slightly strained. Remus had kept a careful eye on her throughout the lesson, aware that this was a subject to which she was likely to be sensitive; but despite the edge that her lingered in her eyes throughout, she had given no overt signs of distress and Remus had taken care not to draw attention to her until now. "Don't touch it," she said softly. "Don't talk to it or try to cast any spells on it. If in doubt, leave well alone. And…" She hesitated only briefly. "Never trust anything that thinks for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain."

Remus nodded, his smile reassuring. "A succinct and accurate summary, not to mention a fine piece of addition advice. Five points to Gryffindor."

Ginny's sincere returning smile was punctuated by the bell. Remus raised his voice over the immediate clatter of books and quills tumbling into bags. "Homework, please read chapter ten of Arestor Curetes' _Banishing the Darkness_ and summarise how you would recognise and deal with a cursed object in your home. Two foot by next lesson please and remember we'll be testing what you've learned on a couple of items I'll be hexing with an itching spell so unless you want a _very _uncomfortable time, I'd read up." He joined the gentle chuckling of his students. "Thank you all. Now go to lunch."

With kind of jostling clammer that only a class full of hungry pupils could muster, the fifth years bustled out of the classroom, chattering and laughing. Luna Lovegood departed dreamily, her bulging eyes raking the ceiling as though it was the most fascinating thing in the world; Ginny Weasley on the other hand, lingered briefly in the doorway, flashed her teacher a quick and grateful smile and was gone.

The moment the clatter of the departing hoard of students had faded down the corridor, Remus closed his eyes and allowed himself to fold into his chair. Moving aside Rebekah's book and the fifth year textbook, he crossed his arms flat on the desk in front of him, yawned widely and lowered his head into their embrace.

_Merlin_, he was tired. No matter how much sleep he got on a full moon night, it never quite seemed to be enough to cover the sheer bone-wrenching exhaustion of transforming from man to wolf and back again in the space of just one night. And of course, he had not slept as much as he could have…

Harry. Tired as he was, Remus had not been able to muster the energy to go in search of James' son and discover just what had brought him to see his teacher at that particular time of night. That it could not have been anything desperately urgent had been reinforced by the fact that Harry was not, as he had half expected, waiting urgently outside his office door at moonset; instead the young man had settled for merely catching his eye awkwardly at breakfast that morning and sharing with him a half nod that Remus had interpreted as _I'll speak to you later_. But Remus had to admit, he had not expected later to be as late as this. Perhaps he should…

"Professor Lupin?"

Remus raised his head. Harry, Ron and Hermione stood clustered in the doorway.

Harry looked uncomfortable. Ron looked rueful. Hermione looked outright annoyed.

Fighting back another yawn, Remus sat up slowly and beckoned them inside. They obeyed wordlessly, Ron pausing only to pull the classroom door shut behind them before joining his two friends in front of their professor's desk. Settling back in his chair, Remus managed a smile.

"So," he said quietly. "Now that I can talk, what can I do for you?"

A tinge of red touched Harry's cheeks. "Look professor, I'm really sorry about last night," he said, the words spilling out in a bit of a rush. "Now I'm not doing Astronomy, I'd kind of lost track of the phase of the moon…"

"_I_ could have told you," Hermione's voice was clipped and terse. "If you'd _asked _me."

Ron glanced at her sharply. "You're the one who wanted another look at that Gold-thing woman's book!" he exclaimed irritably.

"Yes, but I didn't mean for you two to go sneaking…" Hermione cut herself off with swift abruptness as she caught Harry's warning look. Glancing down at her teacher's desk, her eyes alighted on the topmost of the two books that Remus had earlier pushed aside. Her face flushed slightly pink.

A somewhat clearer picture of events was forming in Remus' mind. "Let me guess," he said softly as the three teens regarded him with sudden apprehension. "After hearing my conversation with Tonks, you wanted another look at _this_." Gently he lifted Rebekah's book in one hand. Hermione's expression was answer enough. "But on going to the library, you discovered the only copy had been taken out and could not persuade Madam Pince to share with you who had it. So last night, you, Harry and Ron, decided to sneak down to the library under James' cloak and take a peek at her records. How am I doing so far?"

"A bit too well," Harry remarked wryly.

Remus grinned outright. "How easily you forget I shared a dormitory with your father and Sirius for _seven years_. Now let me see – you searched her cards and found that the book had been lent out to me. On consulting the Marauder's Map, you found that I was alone in my office and decided to bite the bullet as it were and ask me outright if you could borrow it. But on arriving at my office, you found the door sealed closed…" He trailed off thoughtfully. "You know, Harry, I can understand that you might have been a little concerned at finding my door warded. But I have to ask – what on earth made you so convinced I was in imminent danger?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a long troubled look. Hermione frowned.

"We've been looking into this Feral Institute you mentioned," she admitted with a sigh, wincing slightly at the slightly reproachful look on her teacher's face. "And what little we can find has made it pretty clear that, Death Eaters or not, it isn't a place that _any_ werewolf wants to be. Werewolves who go in there only tend to come out…well, _dead_."

"And then last night," Harry picked up the tale. "As Ron and I were leaving the library under the cloak, we heard Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall walking along nearby. And they were talking about _you_."

Remus frowned. "Me?"

"Yeah," Ron said, his freckled nose wrinkling with concern. "Saying how dangerous what you were doing was and how worried they were that some people they just called _them _would come along and lock you up or even try to kill you now that they had proof you were a target. And then when we found your door was all warded and you didn't answer…" Ron's voice dropped to a hush. "We thought this _they_ might have already tried something."

Remus smiled slightly, fighting a cold chill that wrapped around his heart. _Dumbledore was that worried?_ Well, that was reasonable enough, he supposed – after all, he wasn't exactly joyful about his situation himself. And it certainly explained Harry's over-reaction the night before but flattered as he was by the three Gryffindors' obvious concern for his well being, it still did not change the fact that this was not Harry, Ron or Hermione's problem. But how on earth could he say as much without making Harry feel as though he was once more left in the dark?

"Harry," he began gently. "Your concern is appreciated but as I said before, this really isn't something you need to worry about. There is no specific threat against you or the school…"

"We're worried about _you_, Professor," Harry interrupted sternly, his green eyes flashing. "Not ourselves."

"And I'm worried about me too," Remus admitted candidly – three pairs of eyes blinked in surprise at the statement as he leaned forwards, his gaze pointed. "But I'm not going to let that stop me doing an important job that only I can do. Honestly, believe it or not, I'm not going into this blinkered and I _can_ look after myself. And you certainly don't need to sneak around libraries researching it for me."

"But we want to help!" Ron burst out suddenly. "We want to do something!"

Remus smiled gently. "And I appreciate that. I really do." He sighed, steepling his fingers as he propped his elbows on the desk in front of him and rested his nose against his fingertips. All this dancing was getting them nowhere and if he simply brushed them off once more, he could only imagine that Harry, Ron and Hermione would throw themselves into their investigations with even greater fervour. But perhaps…

"Look," he said suddenly, carefully avoiding the gaze of three pairs of expectant eyes. "Whatever I say, you're going to keep looking into this aren't you?" Their stubborn expressions were answer enough. "Well, then," Remus sighed. "I can't see how telling you this will make you any less worried but at least it will stop you making up scenarios all your own." He looked up sternly. "But you have to promise me that if I tell you'll stop investigating. And I hope I can trust you to have the good sense not to spread anything I tell you around."

"Of course, Professor!"

"We promise!"

"We won't say a word!"

"Well then." Remus leaned gently back in his chair once more, trying to fight the feeling that he was making a terrible mistake. "In that case, take a seat and I'll begin…"

---------------------------------------------------

All things considered, Harry, Ron and Hermione had taken the news about a potential army of Imperiused werewolves surprisingly well. Harry's jaw had hardened grimly, Ron's lip had twisted nervously and Hermione's thoughtful frown had deepened with concern but none of them had displayed any outward signs of panic. Instead they had calmly, if uncertainly questioned him on the matter and he had responded accordingly, providing Hermione with an appropriate booklist to study her defences and agreeing with Harry's assertion that he would immediately if subtly start the DA practising suitable non-direct spells useful for driving a transformed werewolf back. And then they had departed, slightly pale and unusually quiet but otherwise showing no outward sign of nervousness.

Remus wondered if he'd done the right thing. But it was too late now.

Besides, coddling and protecting Harry the year before had led them to disaster. He was sixteen years old. It was time to start trusting him.

And then he thought of Sunday and wondered whether his father would now be ready to grace the same favour upon him.

Friday and Saturday had passed with quiet uneventfulness. He had met Tonks for a drink in the Three Broomsticks on Saturday night, where the Auror had informed him with profound irritation that information regarding the backgrounds of the Feral Institute staff had been restricted to a clearance several levels above hers.

"I can ask Kingsley to have a look," she had told him, as she had twisted and contorted a napkin bad-temperedly between her fingers. "He's got clearance high enough. But Umbridge…" she had paused and mock-spat, "has erected this great wall of bureaucracy that you have to climb to get any information these days and Kingsley's so busy at the moment that Merlin knows when he'll be able to find the time. I don't fancy our chances of getting a look at those files before the Millennium. Sorry mate."

They had drowned their sorrows together with butterbeer for a couple of hours before going their separate ways – Tonks down the floo to her flat in London and Remus on foot back to Hogwarts. And so the night had passed and Sunday had sluggishly dawned, drizzly and grey, the sky heavy with the weight of April showers.

And Remus had gone home.

The weather in mid-Wales was little better than it had been in the highlands of Scotland, grey skies and drizzling rain that shrouded the surrounding trees, still mostly leafless in spite of the onset of spring, in a grim and swirling mist. The cottage of Winter Hollow was pale and slightly blurred, its bookend chimneys rising half-hidden out of the cloak of cloud, its red front door bleached of colour. Wrapping his cloak tightly around him, Remus hurried across the meadow towards the muted glow of light against the windows and let himself quickly inside.

"Remus?"

Remus glanced up as he pushed the door closed, meeting his father's eyes with a smile. Reynard smiled warmly back as he leaned against the doorframe of the living room, his stance easy enough in comparison to the previous fortnight's tension to allow a touch of relief to swell in Remus' chest. But still, as he looked closer, around the edges of his father's eyes and in the set of his shoulders, there lingered an undeniable uncertainty, a slight apprehension as he watched his son hang his cloak on the peg beside the door and move over to join him.

In spite of a ridiculous temptation to flood his father with the questions he had previously refused to answer, Remus forced himself to quell the whisper of worry in his mind. Instead, he simply tossed a glance towards the kitchen.

"Are we eating out today?" he asked with deliberately careful cheer. "Only I don't smell a roast from Mrs Wenn."

"No, no roast." Flexing his crippled knee awkwardly, Reynard made his way slowly over to his familiar chair by the fire. Damp weather always affected him this badly, but Remus knew his father's pride well enough not to offer any kind of help. "I asked her not to come today. I had a feeling you would want to talk before doing anything else and there's no point in letting good food get cold." He smiled slightly ruefully as he settled the garish green Molly-Weasley blanket over his obviously painful knees and poked his cane at the embers of the fire to make them flare. "I think I should congratulate you on your restraint, son. I half-expected to be hoisted up by my robes and shaken for answers as soon as you walked through the door."

Remus chuckled softly as he settled on the settee beside the window, rubbing one hand unconsciously up and down his wrist as his mind flitted awkwardly back to several similar imaginary encounters that had flashed through his head in the prior fortnight. "Oh, it was a close run thing," he replied with careful lightness. "But my fingers aren't what they were. I decided I'd catch you unawares and quietly grill you over the fire instead."

"At least you had a plan." Reynard twitched his cane slightly between his fingers as he settled back against the cushions, a familiar gesture of his own nervousness. "But honestly, Remus – the smell would have been _terrible_."

Remus shrugged wryly as he crossed his legs and leaned back. "Son of a Potions Mistress and an Exterminator, remember? My nostrils were desensitised before I reached five. I'm immune to foul odours."

Reynard cocked an eyebrow playfully but his smile was tight. "In other words, you mean the scent of your mother's concoctions burned your nose hairs off." He clicked his fingers in mock annoyance. "I _knew_ we shouldn't have given you the bedroom over the kitchen."

"Not to mention the piles of kappa droppings in the yard. And the stench of you dissecting red caps on the kitchen table. _And_…"

"All right, all right." Reynard raised his hands in wry defeat. "You had a smelly upbringing, I admit it."

"And a loud one. What with mum blowing up the kitchen and your menagerie out the back and mum _telling you off_ about your menagerie in the back…"

"We were terrible parents." Reynard admitted with a more genuine grin. "I've never pretended otherwise. I mean people only have to look at how badly you turned out to tell…"

Remus returned the grin broadly. "Living here did teach me one valuable lesson. I learned how to sit quietly and block out the world as all hell broke loose around me. Given who I shared a dormitory with, I'd never have passed a single exam without that skill."

"Nice to know I made a difference," Reynard remarked with a sudden air of careful nonchalance. "I'll thank you to remember that when you have me strapped to a spit, the stench of charred parent wafting on the breeze."

Remus smiled again. "Weren't you listening? I'll be able to ignore you nicely as you rotate away."

There was no doubt this time – the lightness of his father's tone had slipped into uncertainty. "But then how will you hear my answers? And for that matter," he smiled wanly, "what were you planning to ask me?"

Remus' felt his smile droop rather as the daft conversation dropped abruptly back into seriousness, back into the lap of the subject that both had been skirting. "I was hoping you might just start to talk," he ventured.

"I might have been a little distracted by the flames."

Remus gave him a stern look. "_Dad_."

"Sorry." Reynard raised an apologetic hand at his brief but blatant attempt at humorous diversion. "Let's forget the metaphorical torture for now. I asked you here to talk about something… something _important_ that's happened to me in the last few weeks. Something I want to share with my only son."

Remus fought back a ridiculous chill in his chest as Tonks' suggestion for his father's odd behaviour reared irrationally against his memory.

"Look, dad," he said suddenly, determined to head off any potential awkwardness the older man might feel in confessing such a liaison. "I think I know what you might be about to say and I just want you to know that if you have decided to start… _seeing _someone, I wouldn't dream of being anything but happy for you and I know mum would have only wanted to you to be happy too…"

"Remus, slow down." Reynard sat slowly forward, regarding his son with suddenly wide eyes as his fingers tickled his cane once more. "What on earth are you talking about?"

There was a substantial pause. "About you seeing someone?" Remus offered at length. "A female someone?"

Reynard stared. "Remus," he said slowly. "I'm _married_. Remember your mother?"

Remus immediately felt distinctly silly. "I know. But my friend Tonks suggested you might be meeting someone on some kind of date the day we saw you and that you'd been widowed for a long time…" He trailed off at his father's incredulous expression. "I _told_ her it was daft," he finished wearily.

"_Completely_ daft," Reynard agreed with a nod. "Honestly, I thought you knew me better than that. For me, there is no woman in the world that could _ever_ compare to your mother."

"I did say that to her."

"I should think so."

Remus frowned. "All right, I'm sorry. But if you weren't meeting a woman, who _were_ you meeting?"

The twitching hands stilled. Reynard's eyes lifted slowly to fix upon his son's.

"My brother," he said softly.

There was a lengthy silence.

Whatever Remus had expected, it wasn't that. Though in hindsight, he wasn't quite sure why.

"Your brother?" he repeated at last, his voice equally soft. "As in Rolphe Lupin? The brother you haven't seen or spoken to in thirty years?"

Reynard nodded slowly. "Until two weeks ago, yes." He smiled wanly. "I don't know why you're so surprised. You're the one who told me I should get back in touch with him."

"I…" Remus breathed deeply. "Dad, that was _four months_ ago. When you didn't say anything, I suppose I assumed you'd decided against it."

Reynard's smile grew rather rueful. "No, just working up the courage. And I think the same was true for him. It took him over a fortnight to reply to my letter."

Remus' mind flashed back to the three months wait and significant push from the Order it had taken to get him to accept Rebekah Goldstein's invitation, not to mention his days of procrastination before deciding to visit Kane prior to his Kiss. Clearly indecisiveness on matters of great personal importance was a bit of a Lupin trait.

"What did he say?" he asked softly.

Reynard shrugged but his casualness was obviously false. "That he wanted to meet in person and talk at the Three Broomsticks that Sunday. And that he wasn't angry with me any more." He chuckled dryly. "That's why I was…well, _jumpier than a grindylow in a hot cauldron_, as you so diplomatically put it when you saw me that day. I was about to see my little brother for the first time in more than thirty-three years."

A slow realisation was dawning on Remus. "Not to mention it must have been rather nerve-wracking to have your werewolf son appear when you were about to have a delicate reunion with a man whose wife and son were killed by the same werewolf that bit him."

Reynard flushed instantly. "You know I don't think like that, Remus."

"But you didn't know that _Rolphe _didn't," Remus offered easily. "Dad, don't worry. It makes perfect sense."

Reynard still looked uncomfortable. "I'll admit, I did wonder. But as it happens, he was quite reasonable about it." He smiled slightly. "He's rather warmed to you since you brought his wife's killer to justice."

Remus raised an eyebrow in slight surprise as vicious headlines and misleading articles danced before his mind's eye. "Considering Rita Skeeter's charming piece of venom in the Prophet, I'm surprised he didn't tar me with the same brush."

"Oh he did, at first." His father smiled more fondly. "But apparently you're his grandson's favourite teacher. And _he_ told Rolphe that Rita's report was utter dragon dung. Apparently, the boy even signed your petition."

Remus laughed outright. "Good to know," he chuckled as his mind skimmed over class lists. _So I teach my uncle's grandson?_ Since he was fairly certain that he would have noticed another Lupin in the register, Remus could only assume the grandson mentioned belonged to one of Rolphe's daughters.

"What's the boy's name?" he asked curiously.

"You know, I forgot to ask." Reynard was smiling more easily now. "But I doubt I would have remembered anyway. You know he has _nine _grandchildren from four of his five grown up kids? The eldest lad's at Hogwarts and another couple are due to join him next year. And his youngest daughter's had a baby just last Christmas." His smile turned slightly bittersweet, his eyes a little wistful. "It's probably a good thing my father left him the family home. The three of us would have rattled around rather in that big old house compared to Rolphe and his hoards of offspring."

Remus felt his heart twist unpleasantly inside his chest. He knew better than anyone just how much his parents would have loved a rampaging hoard of children and grandchildren careening through their lives. But fate had not been kind in that regard – fertility problems had meant that Remus was their long awaited first-and-only child and his bite aged only three had put pay to any realistic ambitions towards a family of his own long before he'd ever had time to formulate them. Even if by some miracle he did happen across a woman brave or foolish enough to be willing to marry and have children by a werewolf and even if he were to allow such a woman to make such a sacrifice, a hoard of grandchildren clustered around Granddad Reynard's knee did not seem especially likely.

Biting his lip, Remus forced himself to speak. "Do you know what year he's in? Or his House?"

Reynard sat back, his eyes still a little melancholy but his smile was real. "All I know is that he's in his teens and a Ravenclaw like his grandfather was. Rolphe was very proud of that." The smile faltered slightly. "There's old family tradition of Lupins in Ravenclaw, as my father was always reminding us when we were young. He wasn't best impressed when Rhea went to Gryffindor and even less when I became a Hufflepuff like mum. At least Rolphe restored the family honour for him."

Rafe Lupin was a subject that Remus most _definitely_ did not want to touch upon. "He didn't say anything else?" he deflected quickly. "If I'm teaching a cousin's son, I'd like to at least know about it."

His father's smile became a little rueful. "Sorry, Remus. I honestly don't recall. But whoever the lad is, I'm very grateful to him. It was his endorsement above all else that convinced Rolphe to write back to me. He wrote to this grandson and asked what he thought of you. The report was apparently glowing."

Remus smiled back. "That's very reassuring."

The cane has begun to twitch once more. "And that is also the reason," Reynard added softly. "That when I saw him again last week back at our family home, he invited _both _of us to a family dinner in two weeks time."

Remus blinked. _Had he just said…?_ "Pardon?"

"A family dinner," Reynard repeated with a slight smile. "Both of us. With Rolphe, his wife, his five children and his nine grandchildren all in attendance to meet us. He's holding it during the Hogwarts Easter holidays especially so the whole family can meet us."

Remus stared at his father in outright disbelief. "They've invited _me_?"

Reynard grinned. "Indeed they have."

"To dinner."

"That's right."

"With their family"

Rey smiled warmly. "With _our_ family."

Remus struggled slightly to bring his mind into focus. "But Kane…"

"_You _stopped him."

"I'm still a werewolf."

Reynard laughed fondly. "And that's just it, Remus. I won't lie to you and say that Rolphe is entirely comfortable with that. But you captured Kane. You're his grandson's favourite teacher. And you're my son." He smiled. "He says he can live with it."

Remus felt a rush of fond warmth. Acceptance was always something that he had craved far more than he had ever received. But if Rolphe Lupin, a man whose wife and son had fallen to a feral's claws, could swallow his distrust enough to issue such an invitation, then he certainly did not intend to refuse it.

"Well then," he said with a smile. "Then I guess I'll be meeting the family."

**A/N**: Many thanks to **The Great RC, Thee-Unknown-Factor-Incognito, mercutio-rane, Howling-wolf, Liv Naravul, sylthian, Hiro No Tsuki, -blank person whoever you might be-, aurelie1, Rel Fexive, Hawkgal, Sycogerl64 **and** felixgirl** for your nice reviews. They are, as always, much appreciated. :)

And a few responses:

**The Great RC** – My beta pointed out that even if Remus was seriously contemplating chewing up the book, Madam Pince would have his furry hide on a platter. So I made it more a distant notion than an actual desire. But after all, it is Croll's book! And as for the remark – I've always believed that assumptions are one of the most dangerous things to have. So I'm glad you agree. :)

**Howling-wolf** – It is a tricky one. But Remus is a Gryffindor at heart, bless him, so stepping back from danger just isn't his way… And as for the Astronomy thing – well, I've never observed that Harry pays much attention to the phases of the moon (do any of us, really, when we aren't likely to grow fangs and a tail?;)) and without Astronomy lessons to remind him, would it even have crossed his mind? I decided not. ;)

**sylthian** - It's always struck me how dangerous it would be to place a silencing charm over a room in which Remus was transforming – after all, although it would disguise any noises he might make, he wouldn't be able to hear anyone who might be sneaking up…

**Hiro No Taku** – Yep, have seen Underworld, but it was a while ago, though I hadn't thought of that until you said it. :)

**aurelie1** – Until book seven? –Whimpers**-** I hope not! I've given up estimating length – my original guess was thirty chapters but I suspect that's long out the window after the number of chapters that have overrun! And where would the entertainment be if they didn't do the stupid things? ;)

**Hawkgal** – I will be including Tonks pov again later in the fic. But I'm not saying why. ;)

The next part will be along next Wednesday. Please review:)


	11. The Worst Kind of Hypocrite

_**11: The Worst Kind of Hypocrite**_

Nymphadora Tonks stared absently at the dull grey ceiling of the Level Five reception at the Feral Institute and wished fervently that she could be anywhere else but where she was.

Almost fifteen minutes had passed since Remus had disappeared once more up into the mysterious Level Six in the company of Alexander Aylward – fifteen Merlin-cursed, everlasting minutes that seemed to drag with vicious intent so that the fears and worries that filled her mind for Remus' safety had plenty of time to multiply and swirl in the recesses of her skull. They had met, as usual, at the Three Broomsticks on the Sunday a fortnight following their last adventure inside the Feral Institute and, once she had dragged a vow from him to take care, and he had – eventually – dragged a concession from her that he could indeed look after himself and that she could safely allow him out of her sight in spite of the acknowledged dangers, they had apparated to the pretty station of the Yorkshire steam train and set out for the Institute once more.

And here she was again, stuck in a grey and silent room worrying herself sick over a friend who had once again placed himself in the hands of people who they knew for a fact wanted to experiment on him.

Not to mention she was _bored_.

She also couldn't help but wonder if Felisha had mentioned something in regards to her – ahem - _search for the toilet_ for unlike on her previous encounter, she had not been left alone since her arrival. Zelia and Dolph had appeared briefly, deep in some dull conversation regarding the properties of Wolfsbane potion and then Cymone had appeared with a flighty smile and settled down at her desk with a bob of her dyed red head and a flick of badly applied silver nail polished fingers to do paperwork. And she showed no sign of running out of ink anytime soon.

Which left Tonks rather starved for _entertainment_.

She had been desperately anxious not to waste this opportunity to do a more detailed search of Rebekah's office. A Pensieve search of her memory was out of the questions – one could not turn the pages of a remembered diary or open a remembered drawer; but given the revelations just a few brief sentences had provided, she had really wanted a chance to get a better look at the mysterious diary, perhaps establish once and for all if it was Rebekah Goldstein's as well as conducting a thorough search for other evidence. But with Cymone settled in state at her messy desk beside the office door, not even the well-worn toilet trick seemed likely to get a result.

Bloody hell. She was an _Auror_. She was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. She was a creature of action, of energy! She was not built to sit and waitand_ wait _and_ wait and wait_…

"Bother!"

Her head shot up. For Cymone had come to her feet.

"Zelia," the little woman declared, flourishing a piece of paper. "She never signs anything. She always says that signatures steal a portion of your soul. I've been saying for ages that we should get her an ink stamp." She shook her head as Tonks gave an obligatory chuckle. "I don't suppose you saw where she and Dolph went, did you?"

As it happened, Tonks had seen exactly where they'd gone. She'd watched as Zelia and Dolph had vanished up the right hand corridor, talking about fetching something from her lab.

But that was not the _entertaining _answer.

Adopting her best vapidly Undine-ish look, Tonks smiled with mindless cheer. "Downstairs," she replied with shameless sincerity. "To talk to the residents, I think she said."

Cymone huffed her cheeks in gerbil-like annoyance. "Typical. Are you all right here for a few minutes?"

"Fine!" The utter innocence of the word was frankly impressive considering that Tonks' brain was currently chanting _bugger off, bugger off_ with fervent enthusiasm. "I'm fine." She flourished her clipboard. "I have reading to do if I get bored."

"If you're sure…" Cymone swept the offending papers off her desk. "I won't be long."

"Oh, don't hurry on my account!" This time, the sincerity was not faked. Cymone smiled as she pulled the lift grill closed. A moment later, she sank out of sight.

Tonks was on her feet in an instant. She hadn't bought herself long, she knew that, but even a quick look at that diary…

She reached for the door-handle of Rebekah's office…

"Still looking for the toilet?"

Tonks jumped violently at the unexpected voice, her heart suddenly racing. She turned.

Felisha Hathaway was staring at her from the shadows of the nearest arch. But this time, the researcher did not look particularly friendly. Her arms were crossed and her forehead creased into a frown. She raised an eyebrow slowly.

And Tonks was at once sure that there would be no bluffing her way out of this one.

"I _knew_ it," Felisha said softly, her eyes fixed upon Tonks as though to pin her in place. "I was suspicious when I caught you last time but now I'm _sure_. You're investigating us, aren't you? You're snooping around."

_Uh oh._ _I'm so doomed_.

Tonks managed a wan smile. "What makes you say that?" she exclaimed with limp heartiness, her stomach twisting itself into knots. _Oh, don't turn us in, you have no idea what's at stake…_

Felisha's expression wavered a little. "Well, that's twice I've caught you at that door," she replied with a slight shrug. "Unless you've caught a quick case of amnesia, you can't have mistaken it for the toilet again. And besides…" She smiled slightly. "I _knew_ Remus wouldn't have chosen an assistant as apparently mindless as you without good reason. You aren't as bubble-brained as you behave, are you?"

Several options flitted through Tonks' mind; flight, denial, Undine-esque blankness. But slightly to her own surprise, what emerged from her lips when they parted was honesty.

"That would be hard," she admitted wryly.

Felisha grinned outright, her severe expression melting and Tonks' felt the tight knot that had seized her stomach loosen slightly. Perhaps she _wouldn't_ turn her in…

"True," she replied candidly, her features growing suddenly more serious. "Normal procedure would be to call Security, you know. That's what I'm supposed to do."

The knot flexed. "Is that what you're going to do?"

"No." Felisha smiled gently. "Because you're here with Remus and he must know about you because he's not so dim as to be taken in by blank smiles and brainless cheerfulness. So he must trust you. And I trust Remus."

Tonks smiled in spite of herself. "He's a good man to trust."

Felisha nodded wordlessly. Her face was pale. She looked like a woman on the verge of a plunge from the deep end. "You know something's rotten here," she said suddenly, her voice low as her eyes darted anxiously up and down the empty corridors. "That's why you keep trying to get into that office. You suspect Rebekah."

Tonks pressed her lips together but said nothing. But her silence was apparently enough of an affirmative for Felisha.

"Well, I think you're right," she continued, her voice now little more than a whisper. "And I think that you, me and Remus really need to have a talk…"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Pointless!"

Rebekah Goldstein resealed the entrance to the Level Six lift with an unnecessarily harsh tap of her wand and wheeled on Remus with a look in her eye that could most kindly be described as venomous. "It seems young _Abel _must have really despised your father, professor, to have so violent a reaction on his every encounter with you." She glared outright. "Unfortunately, it also means that any attempt at further research in your presence is likely to be as pointless as today. As long as he thinks you are your father, he will have none of you."

Remus fought down a ridiculous urge to apologise for a quirk of genetics over which he had had no control. He had returned to the Institute after the passing of the requested fortnight to find - both his relief and disconcertion - no real sign that anything had changed. The now familiar routine had been observed, an escort from Cymone, an anxious and edgy Tonks left in the reception area, a trip up to Level Six and a psychotic encounter with an agitated Abraham Kane that had ended in sedation and a highly irritated Head of the Institute. Quite what tests Rebekah had intended he had been unable to discover but their thwarting was clearly a source of some aggravation.

In spite of his protests to Tonks on the train, Remus had found himself observing Rebekah Goldstein in an attempt to divine any suspicious behaviour. Thus far he had seen nothing he had not come to expect from her – her cold rudeness, her brusqueness, her unconcealed dislike of him, but there was nothing about her that outright screamed _Death Eater_. After all, if disliking him were a mark of evil, most of the wizarding world would be passionate supporters of Voldemort.

He half-opened his mouth, intending to offer a mild reply, but before he could speak, the wall to his right shimmered again and Croll appeared out of the lift, grasping an empty vial in one hand and his wand in the other.

"He's out cold," he stated without preamble. "Say what you will about Zelia's strange beliefs, but she certainly knows how to brew a good sedative."

Rebekah's lips quirked. "Alexander is standing guard?"

"He is." Croll resealed the lift with a tap as irritable as Rebekah's before sheathing his wand in the pocket of his clinical robes. "With his usual verve and infectious enthusiasm of course." His heavy eyebrows lifted slightly as his gaze fixed on Remus. "Our mild mannered professor here certainly seems to know how to make and impact," he added with a smirk. "One glance and we have a rioting feral on our hands."

Rebekah looked rather less amused. "A rioting feral that has yet again delayed our research," she replied acidly. The smirk was wiped from Croll's face in an instant. "Talk to Zelia. See if she can brew us a calming draft of some kind. I do not like the thought of our subject being medicated during the tests but given the strength of his feelings towards the professor, I can't see another alternative."

She shot Remus another icy look. Prudence would have suggested silence but Remus was not feeling particularly prudent.

"It is unfortunate," he offered mildly. "If I may ask – what tests were you planning to run?"

Rebekah's expression darkened, if possible, even further. "You may not ask."

Remus felt the prickle of profound annoyance. "If I am to be involved in these tests, I think I have the right to know what they are."

She glowered at him. "This is my project."

"And I am involved."

"At my invitation."

"Exactly." Remus was proud that he managed to keep his voice so level, especially given that he was annoyingly aware of the spreading smirk of Arcadius Croll to his right. "You invited me here. But all you have done so far is restrict my movements and snap at me." He took a deep breath, aware of risky-ness of the subject he was about to broach with the already annoyed researcher. "For example, after meeting Dolph Greymoor, I would be interested to go downstairs and talk with some of the other residents…"

He knew instantly that he had made a mistake. "Do you think you are here for _fun_?" Rebekah's voice was utter acid, her shoulders locked with instant cold fury. "That we should welcome you with open arms and give you the grand tour of our premises?" He heard Croll chuckle coldly at the remark. "You are here, _professor_, to assist in my experiments. Do not delude yourself that I asked you here as some kind of _equal_. You are here as a glorified stimulant for my test subject and nothing more."

Well, at least she was finally being _honest _with him. "You still wanted my help."

Rebekah's eyes were daggers. "I do not _need_ your help."

"Then why do you keep asking me back?"

She stared at him, glacial and angry. "I'm starting to _wonder_."

To his right, Croll folded his arms with an even broader smirk. Clearly this was his idea of classic entertainment.

Suddenly, Remus was tired. Tired of Rebekah and her rudeness, tired of Croll of his sneers, tired of continually having to pretend he could stand spending more than a few minutes in these people's company. And he was tired of being the only one who didn't say exactly what he thought of those around him.

Time to get to the point.

"For someone who makes her livelihood researching here," he remarked almost conversationally. "You don't like werewolves very much, do you Rebekah?"

To his slight surprise, she reacted to his frankness with a cool chuckle. "I like werewolves perfectly well, Professor," she retorted evenly. "I just don't like _you_."

Remus felt his jaw harden. "You don't _know_ me."

Her eyes seemed to gleam with hidden depths and icy fury. "I know enough. I know that a werewolf who has twice endangered the lives of innocent children has no right to walk free, let alone to _still_ be called _Professor._" Her voice rose sharply. "After what you did three years ago, running loose and unfettered on the grounds where any child could have crossed your path and yet they take you back! And again before Christmas, tempting a feral into a Great Hall packed with children and somehow still, they keep you on! Other werewolves who've done less are now destined to spend their _lives_ within these walls! It's a disgrace to the wizarding world that they even allowed you within a _hundred miles_ of Hogwarts!"

_Now we're getting somewhere_. Remus stared at her, stared at her furious face, at her flashing eyes and inside, finally, something clicked.

_Any child… Goldstein…_

Abruptly, several things came sharply into focus. The personal nature of her hatred, her disdainful use of his title and _of course_, that was why she had seemed so familiar on their first encounter – he could not believe he had not seen it sooner. She looked just like…

"Anthony." The name escaped his lips; Rebekah's jaw hardened tightly. "Anthony Goldstein. Sixth year, a Ravenclaw Prefect. I teach your _son_."

The cold descended over Rebekah like a wave. "You _endanger_ my son."

A protective parent. Remus sighed. He could understand her sentiments, of course he could – what mother would want their child in such proximity to a creature who'd dangers she knew better than any other? He had had known that when he had resigned for the first time, had thought of it when he had tried to resign again the previous November – he could share her fears probably more vividly than anyone else. But genuine as they were, her feelings certainly weren't making his life here any easier.

And it also made it very difficult for him to argue his case. Because, deep down, he agreed with her.

"I take precautions," he stated, with far more conviction than he felt. "I'm on Wolfsbane and…"

"Wolfsbane didn't prevent you running loose on the grounds three years ago," Rebekah snapped back. "Wolfsbane didn't prevent you from fighting like an animal with Abraham Kane in the entrance hall at Hogwarts. Anthony was there, the foolish boy, he helped to move an injured professor and ended up jumping into the Hogwarts harbour to escape from the danger _you_ put him in. He was still suffering with the chill he caught that day when he came home for Christmas!"

"Anthony was very brave…"

"Anthony was very stupid!" Rebekah interrupted harshly. "He has been taught the dangers of werewolves all his life. And yet he stayed that day, in the danger you created because for some reason, he _likes_ you! I don't know what you have done to twist his mind…"

Sympathy was rapidly waning into failing patience. "I twisted _nothing_. I merely teach…"

"That werewolves are kind and gentle and misunderstood?" At Rebekah's sneering retaliation, Croll laughed outright. "You know even more than I do the lie in such words."

That was painfully close to the mark. But Remus forced himself to defend his position. "I have never taught such foolishness…"

Rebekah's voice was an outright snarl. "Then you should know better than anyone alive that you should not be allowed to teach _at all_." Her eyes raked over him with disdain. "You are the worst kind of hypocrite, Professor Lupin. Now _get out_. I'm _sick _of the sight of you."

And then with a sweep of her reddish-brown hair, Rebekah Goldstein turned on her heel and stalked away down the corridor leaving a speechless Remus alone with the cruelly smirking Croll. The medical officer watched the werewolf with a curl of his thin lips.

"Oops," he remarked cheerfully. "I think you might have upset her."

Remus had never in his life felt such a powerful urge to thump someone. But through sheer force of will, he managed to resist it.

All his doubts about Rebekah Goldstein the Death Eater came flooding back in a rush. Now that he knew the reason for her cold behaviour, could understand it well, in fact, he could no longer attribute it to the disdain of a servant of Voldemort as Tonks had. Oh yes, her reasons for inviting him were murky at best and there was still the matter of the Imperius curse she had cast on Kane. But her treatment of him was now clearly pegged out as the resentment of an angry mother to a man who had risked her son.

The _justified_ resentment, a part of him whispered. _Because you are the worst kind of hypocrite, Professor Lupin._

"You certainly are popular." Croll's sneering voice broke into his moody contemplations like a slither of grease. "Why, I was talking to an old friend of mine only the other day and he was telling me how well he thought of you. Why the terms in which he spoke glowed like a dragon's maw. He seems almost as fond of you as dear Rebekah." The smirk was practically splitting his cheeks. "You know him quite well, I believe. His name is Severus Snape."

Remus stared. Well that explained _a lot_.

"He told me about your _glorious _school days and your many moments of triumph as a teacher," Croll continued with mordant glee. "He near enough exploded trying to sing all your praises at once." With a casual swagger, the tall man turned in the direction that Rebekah had stormed away. "Goodbye Professor," he said softly. "And after that…" he jerked his head in the direction of his colleague's retreat. "I suspect it is also good riddance." He positively beamed. "I'd say have a nice life but I just wouldn't mean it. And I'd say I'd hope never to see you again but…" He chuckled nastily as his eyes drifted towards the ceiling and the cells of Level Six above. "I suspect that won't be true. I think you may get to visit the Resident's Level after all."

And then Croll too turned and strolled away. He was _whistling_.

Remus felt himself glare at Croll's retreating back. Birds of a feather flocked together – that was _certainly_ true. But the question remained – if Croll was a friend of Snape's, who _else_ was he flocking with?

"Remus!"

Remus jumped a good foot at the hiss of his name. He wheeled round and, to his surprise, found himself face to face with Tonks-as-Undine and Felisha Hathaway. Felisha was regarding him with some concern.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her face pale beneath her dark curls. At his bemused look, Tonks grimaced.

"We heard," she stated grimly. "Felisha and I were talking in reception when Rebekah's charming diatribe drifted out to us. We came a bit closer to find out what was wrong and…" She shrugged slightly but Remus could read the mixture of relief and anxiety across her changed features as her eyes met Remus'. "Well, I think our future invitations might have just been rescinded."

Remus frowned wearily. "It was my fault. I should have just kept my mouth shut."

Felisha's brown eyes regarded him with frank astonishment. "I'm surprised you'd want to come back," she said bluntly. "I'm not even sure I want to keep coming back anymore and I _work _here."

Tonks gave Felisha a suddenly meaningful look. "Felisha, why don't you tell Remus what you were telling me a few minutes ago? Like you guessed, I think he'll be interested."

Felisha sighed slightly. "You didn't just come here because you were invited, Remus," she said abruptly, her words a statement not a question. "You're here because this place stinks like a cauldron of badly brewed Wolfsbane and you and Undine want to know why."

To say Remus was taken aback was rather an understatement. His eyes flitted to Tonks.

"Don't look at me," the Auror said with a slight grin. "She sussed us out all by herself."

"It didn't take much sussing," Felisha gave a small smile. "Remus, you'd never work with someone so mindless, even out of pity – even your infinite patience would have been driven to sarcasm long ago. And Undine, _nobody_ needs the toilet that much."

Tonks laughed outright and Remus smiled. "Very perceptive," he said.

Felisha returned the smile. "My powers of observation are infinite," she declared dryly. She shook her head, her eyes suddenly tired. "But I barely need to switch them on to see that things are all wrong around here."

"You've noticed something strange?" Remus was instantly on the alert. Felisha met his anxious eyes with a creased brow. She sighed.

"I've noticed _everything's _strange," she stated wearily, her voice carefully low. "In the last few months, this place has _changed_. There are things kept here that shouldn't be, secrets being hidden, people behaving oddly – and there's an _atmosphere_ about the place that there has never been before. And I don't like it. Not at _all_." She glanced around with quick anxiety. "I know you've noticed that atmosphere." She took a deep breath. "I know you're here because of it. To do something about it, maybe." At Remus' look of surprise, she half-smiled. "I know you, Remus. And I know the look on your face when you're up to something." She chuckled slightly but then seriousness washed over her once more. "But I don't want to discuss it here. As Undine and I just proved, anyone could be listening."

"We've had a chat," Tonks took up the thread, her voice also soft. "And made an appointment to meet later. I'll tell you about it when we're out of possible earshot."

Remus nodded, his mind still racing from the conversations of the last few minutes. An unpleasant thought had just occurred. "That's all very well," he said quietly. "But whatever you may be able to tell us, Felisha, I don't think it's very likely we'll ever be allowed back to do anything about it. I think this may be my last informal visit to the Feral Institute."

Tonks gave him a sharp look at his implication. Felisha, meanwhile, was biting her lip. "You may be right." She looked up suddenly. "Did I hear Croll say something about you wanting to see the Resident's Level?"

Remus frowned carefully. "I was just curious…"

Felisha's gaze was meaningful. "_Significantly_ curious?"

Tonks and Remus exchanged a long slow look. "Possibly," Tonks replied cautiously. "Why?"

Felisha's eyes were vaguely frantic but her jaw was firm as she switched her gaze from Remus to Tonks and then back again. "Because I have access to those levels," she said softly. "And if this is to be your last visit, I think you should have a proper look round, don't you?"

Remus stared at his old school friend, at her fearful eyes and determined shoulders, aware that she was putting her job and, if their suspicions about this place were correct, possibly her life on the line over something she did not fully understand.

"Rebekah said no," he told her frankly. "I don't want to get you into trouble."

Felisha's smile was rueful. "Working here, I think I'm already in trouble," she said bluntly. "I want to do this, Remus. And if we're careful, Rebekah won't ever have to know."

Tonks looked at Remus. Remus looked at Tonks.

It was a risk, a risk for Felisha's job, for Tonks' cover, for Remus' life. But it was also very likely to be the only opportunity they would get.

As one, they nodded.

"If you're absolutely sure," Remus simply said. "Then let's do it."

Felisha swallowed hard. "I'm sure," she replied. "So follow me."

**A/N**: Many thanks to **Howling-wolf, mercutio-rane, The Great RC, sylthian, Sycogerl64, wolffeathers, Rel Fexive, aurelie1, PaulaS, Analia's Broom, FireChildSlytherin5 **and** Esined** for your lovely reviews! They are appreciated, one and all. :)

A few specific responses:

**The Great RC** – Not in this story, no…;)

**sylthian **– I don't think Abel would be very welcome…;) And as you can see – more Tonks:)

**Sycogerl64 **- -blushes- Thank you very much, that's extremely nice of you:)

**PaulaS **– Good grief, that's a marathon read! I hope your eyes are all right! ;) I was spooked out (if privately very smug…;)) about how close I got in a few departments regarding Remus' backstory too! Movie!Remus wasn't at all how I picture him either, but admit I have avoided describing Remus in much more detail than the books have so that people can maintain their own images of him. :) But I can never understand it when Remus is portrayed in fics as humourless – no man that can dress Severus Snape in a vulture-topped hat can be that serious…;) And I love Reynard too – I'm very proud of him. :) In regards to shipping – I have made a firm decision now but I'm not going to spoil it for you by saying what that decision is! ;) Thanks a lot for your nice review and I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far:)

**Analia's Broom** – I wish Diana was there too. :( But she had to die for plot reasons…. And alas, I'm not sure any extra protection would be allowed – with the Institute's security, it would certainly be discovered and questioned…

**Esined **– Well, Tonks isn't going to the party if that's what you mean. It's a Lupins only affair…;) And I'm really pleased you said that you're enjoying this as much as Oblivious because when I started it, I admit I was worried that people wouldn't take to it as strongly…:)

Reviews are, as always, very welcome. :)


	12. At The Gate

_**12: At The Gate**_

It was a nervous journey. For all involved.

And who could blame them? They had no illusions about what would happen if they were caught by Rebekah. Tonks was risking her cover. Felisha was risking her job. And Remus was risking his _freedom_.

"There'll be two guards at the top of the Resident's Level lift," Felisha informed them tersely as they sunk quietly back down towards the ground floor where the lifts to the two disparate parts of the Feral Institute met. "And another standing watch inside the Resident's chambers themselves but he's a friend of mine and shouldn't bother us or tell Rebekah if I say you're helping me with my research. The trouble will be the first pair. They won't take my word for it alone – you'll need to show passes. And since you don't have passes for that level, that means that you can't use the lift."

Remus and Tonks exchanged a long glance. "Then how…" Tonks began.

"The emergency stairs." Felisha's jaw tightened grimly as the lift emerged into the ground floor chamber and came to a gentle halt. "I have clearance to open the grates without activating the alarms or the stunning spells. I'll open the grate and you two can go up the stairs. Ignore the first floor grate; that just leads to the cages where the residents transform at full moon. But the second floor grate will take you into the secure corridor outside the resident's refectory. I'll take the lift and meet you there to open it. But _don't touch the grate_, whatever you do. Explaining to Rebekah why either of you are lying unconscious on the emergency stairs is something I'd rather not have to do."

She glanced around the empty lift chamber, stepped forward and then beckoned them out after her. The room was dark and quiet and almost uncomfortably still.

Felisha was casting anxious glances towards the large doors that led to the ground floor reception. "I'll check the coast's clear before I let you through. I really, _really _hope that Unwin Dempster won't be there – most of the caretakers are nice, but he's a mean old sod and a good friend of Croll's. Anything we say in front of him will be relayed straight upstairs at the first opportunity." She sighed. "Staying out of his way will be crucial." The sleeve of her robe twisted mercilessly between her fingers; her eyes were unmistakably nervous. "I must be mad. Any one of these things is enough to get me fired all on its own."

Remus felt a wave of guilt. "Felisha, if you don't want to do this, we would understand…"

But the researcher had already waved a dismissive hand. "I want to do it, Remus," she informed his sharply. "I'd rather be fired than live with the atmosphere that's taken over here of late. This is too important. I want to know what's going on as much as you do. And maybe you can spot something that I've missed." She sighed again, deeply this time. "Let's do it if we're going to do it. That way…"

Her voice broke off abruptly as her eyes snapped towards the Resident's lift shaft. They widened.

And then Remus heard it too – the rattle and clink of a lift descending.

"Someone's coming!" Tonks' voice was a hiss – abruptly she grabbed Remus' arms and hauled him round to face her, her expression dropping almost shockingly into Undine's vapid wide eyes.

"And the Professor has several interesting theories about the nature of the feral mind," she declared loudly, her gaze switching between the slightly bewildered Felisha and the instantly faux casual Remus as the lift ground to a halt behind them. She rustled pointedly with her clipboard as Felisha hurriedly rearranged her features into a look of mild interest. "In fact, I have some notes here that you might be interested in looking over…"

"Hathaway." The gruff voice drew their attention. "What are you doing?"

The man who emerged from the lift was short and wiry, dressed in well worn robes of grey and blue, his face grizzled, his clear blue eyes penetrating. In spite of his advancing age, he moved with ease and confidence and he had a squint that reminded Remus inexplicably of Mad-Eye Moody, along with an expression of distrust to match. He was looking the three of them over with outright suspicion.

Felisha mustered a smile. "Unwin," she said with apparent friendliness. "I was just escorting our visitors out and we got into a bit of a debate. Nothing to worry about."

Unwin the caretaker snorted. "That's what you say," he muttered darkly. "I've heard things about these visitors. Best get them off the premises, Hathaway. A werewolf loose in the Feral Institute is more trouble than its worth."

With a final, bad-tempered glare, the old man turned and strode away towards the door. With a tap of his wand, he passed through and moved out of sight.

Tonks' eyebrow rose with slow deliberateness. "Wow, Remus," she said dryly. "You just make friends so easily around here. Your instant popularity is startling."

Remus graced her with a long, slow look. "Thanks," he retorted sarcastically.

Felisha pulled a face. "Oh, it's not just Remus. Unwin and Croll have always been that charming. They're even like it with Dolph." She reached into her robes and drew out her wand. "But if Unwin's out here, he's not up there. So getting this over with before he comes back is going to be the best chance we'll get. Come on."

A few taps of Felisha's wand and a murmured clearance was enough to release the grate on the emergency staircase. Once the grate had been sealed behind them, Felisha vanished towards the lift and Remus and Tonks made their way hurriedly up the two flights of stairs to the Level Two grate.

The stairs were unlit, dark and narrow and Tonks' feet proved unequal to the task of negotiating them safely on more than one occasion. But Remus was quickly on hand to help her up and they reached the second floor grate with only a few bruises for their trouble.

And Felisha was not there.

Remus went cold. She'd said she'd be there to let them out. Where was she? Had they got the right grate? Or had something gone wrong? Had something happened to her?

At that prospect, the cold went glacial.

Tonks also looked deeply disconcerted at the lack of Felisha. Stepping past Remus, she leaned carefully closer to the grate as she peered into the short, predictably grey corridor beyond, taking in the broad double doors that filled the end to their left and the small, solid looking door indented into an alcove at the corridor's conclusion to their right. But there was no doubt. It was empty.

Remus frowned, trying to fight the chill that had settled in his chest as he forced himself to speak. "Where…" He broke off, lowering his voice carefully to stem the ripple of echoes that bounced against the stone stairwell at his words. "Where is she?" he repeated with a hush. "The lift should have been quicker."

Tonks' brow had also creased. "She had guards to get round," she whispered softly in reply. "Maybe they held her up."

"I hope that's all it is," Remus glanced up and down the corridor anxiously, almost as though the touch of his eyes would bring her into view. "I just hope she isn't trouble."

Tonks gave him an odd look. "So do I," she replied. "But if she's in trouble, we're doomed."

Remus glanced at her sideways. "Doomed?" he said. The word echoed softly against the walls and once again, he forced himself to lower his voice for fear of being heard. "That's a bit melodramatic, isn't it? We're safe enough for now."

There was a hint of exasperation in Tonks' expression. "_Safe_?" she almost hissed. "Remus, if you define safe as being trapped on a restricted staircase in a building you've been all but thrown from, sealed in by grates that'll stun you if you touch them, then I'd hate to see your idea of _trouble_. We couldn't be more trapped if we locked ourselves in Azkaban."

Glacial surged into sub zero. "Ah."

"Quite." Tonks gave a long sigh. Silence, potent and awkward dropped heavily upon them both. Side by side, they waited.

The quiet was frankly eerie. The thick walls of the Institute meant that they could hear no footsteps from above, no clanks or chattering from any direction. Drifting by echo up the stairwell came the occasional far distant creak of a door or hint of a footstep, but it was fleeting, ghost-like, barely heard and then gone before confirmed.

And still Felisha did not come.

Remus was good at waiting in silence. It happened for him on a monthly basis. Even given the powerful concern for Felisha's well-being that was gnawing at his heart, he knew that nothing was to be gained by fretting and panicking too soon.

Tonks however, was not such a graceful waiter. She shifted, as quietly as she was able, on her feet, she fiddled with her clipboard and sighed often, glaring into the dark silence as though to chase it away with her eyes. Remus could tell that she would not be able to stand the quiet much longer.

He was right.

Suddenly she was at his side. "So, Remus," she said, her voice carefully soft to combat echoes, "any bright ideas as to what we do if Felisha doesn't come?"

She was frustrated, he could tell. As an Auror, Tonks was used to action, to being able to act; she was not accustomed to standing caged and relying on another for relief. She needed to relax and he was the only one who could help her do that.

Remus forced a wan smile. "We could claim to be looking for the toilet."

Tonks snorted a chuckle almost in spite of herself, stifling it hurriedly as the sound carried. "I think I've used that one to death already," she informed him softly. "Surely the infamous Mr Moony can do better than that?"

"The infamous Mr Moony had access to an invisibility cloak. But I think I'd rather face the wrath of Professor McGonagall again than Rebekah if she finds us here."

Tonks' lip twisted. "Oh, I don't know. Even a potential Death Eater would probably be better than that glare over those glasses."

The banter was at least a way to stem the flood of cold, the sting of worry for Felisha and the realisation of their potential fate. "That's very true."

Tonks had apparently caught on to his tactic. "Oh yes," she continued with forced cheer. "We should have thought of it sooner. We send McGonagall in to interrogate the Death Eaters. Once glare from her and they'll be putty in our hands."

Remus allowed himself to chuckle, but the sound seemed to fade and be swallowed by distorted echoes in the unlit, empty well of stairs. His laughter died in the dark and coldness swelled once more. He could not keep it up.

"Tonks," he said softly. "What _are_ we going to do? If she doesn't come?"

Tonks' bright smile was false. "Charades?"

His failure to even attempt a smile quashed her deliberate cheerfulness instantly. "I'm serious."

With a deep sigh, Tonks turned away from the grate and leaned back against the wall, toying her clipboard between her hands. "She'll come," she replied softly. "She has to."

Remus rubbed one hand absently across his brow. "I'm worried about her," he admitted.

Something indefinable glinted in the Auror's eyes. "I can see that."

"She didn't have to help us. I got her into this. If anything happens to her because of me, I'd never forgive myself."

A small hand touched his wrist in a gesture of comfort. "I know."

Remus shook his head. "This is too dangerous. I should never have let her get involved."

Tonks' look was pointed. "She _works_ here, Remus. She was already involved."

"I know, but still I should have…"

_Rattle._

His voice broke off instantly. At his side, Tonks froze.

"Was that the door?" she whispered softly.

Remus started to nod. "I think so."

Tonks started to smile. "There! See, I told it would be…"

A sharp creak cut away her words as the knob of the smaller door turned and jerked abruptly open. A high-pitched voice drifted down the corridor, accompanied by the rustle of paper and rapid, ungainly footsteps.

"She says the Residents Level. They say upstairs. What did I do to deserve this?"

_Cymone!_

Remus caught a flash of dyed red hair but he did not hesitate long enough to get a better glimpse. Grabbing Tonks by the arm, he hurled them both in the direction of the concealing banister of the next flight of stairs.

"Running around like an idiot all day just because…" The footsteps were closing. "Why if it wasn't for me… No gratitude! Do I look like some kind of…of…_gopher_? It's hardly…"

Already off balance from the sudden shove, Tonks stumbled, staggering sideways as her clipboard clattered onto the bottom step, her hand flying out in search of support as her momentum half dragged Remus down with her. He tried his best to grab her, reeling, frantic, but his own balance was long gone – with a jolting, painful thud, he tumbled back onto the rising stairs. He felt his fingers jerk as her robed arm was torn from his tenuous supporting grasp - he caught one brief glimpse of her falling form, of one hand stretched out to slap against the dark panel of what looked like some kind of hatchway in a desperate hunt for balance.

And then there was _blue_.

Half-fallen, disorientated, Remus only had the vaguest idea of what had happened. He saw Tonks' hand contact the dark panel and he saw the panel glow with an alarmingly familiar surge of blue light; and then, with a gasp of pain, Tonks was flung backwards, tumbling into his lap with a look of deep shock on her disguised features. Without stopping to think, Remus wrapped his arms around her waist and dragged her up with all his might, scrambling backwards a few feet up the steps to collapse in a heap just behind the merciful concealment of the banister. He felt her hand close around his arm, the heave of her breathless chest against his, met her wide but thankfully conscious eyes behind Undine's green spectacles and then as one, they froze.

There had been a flash. There had been several bangs. Had Cymone seen? Had Cymone heard?

They found an ominous silence.

The muttering had stopped. The footsteps had stilled.

"What the…?" Remus heard a voice murmur.

Tentative, uncertain steps moved in the corridor beyond. They sounded close.

Tonks' grip on his arm tightened. Her breath was shallow against his neck.

And then, again, they heard the rattle of a door.

"Cymone?" called a voice. "What _are_ you doing?"

Remus felt a great surge of relief. _Felisha!_

To judge by the rustle of papers, Cymone had been given quite a start. "Oh! Felisha!" she gasped. "Come here, quick!"

"What in Merlin's name is the matter?" Rapid footsteps closed quickly towards them down the corridor. "What are you looking at? And why have you drawn your wand?"

"There's something on the stairs!" Cymone's voice was almost accusatory. "I heard noises in there!"

"Are you sure it wasn't just something going down the laundry chute?" Felisha's tone was carefully dismissive. "It does make a real bang sometimes…"

"I don't think they use _that_ laundry chute any more." But Cymone now sounded blessedly unsure. "And anyway, it was more of a…_scrabbling_ noise."

Remus held his breath. He could hear the pounding of a heartbeat against his body but given their proximity, he could not tell whether it belonged to himself or Tonks.

"Well…" It sounded as though Felisha was clicking her tongue. "It could be rats."

_Rustle, rustle_ went the papers. "_Rats?_ We…we d…d...don't have rats!"

"I'm not so sure about that." Perhaps it was his imagination, but Remus almost got the feeling that Felisha was enjoying herself. "One of the caretakers told me that he'd seen a rat scurrying around in the laundry room only last week. Came in off the moor, he reckons, maybe a foot long. And you know, a rat can climb almost _anything_. Maybe it got up the laundry chute and onto the stairs?"

To judge by the amount of paper rustling, this was not a prospect that Cymone found very appealing. "Y…You think?" she managed shakily.

"Oh yes." Remus could almost imagine the look of wide-eyed innocence on Felisha's face. "Maybe you should speak to Rebekah or Unwin – see about getting some traps laid."

"Traps?" There was a slightly faint note to Cymone's voice now. "You think we need t...traps?"

"Don't you? I don't think this is something we want to get out of hand."

"Absolutely!" The rustling was almost rhythmic against the sound of feet edging away from the door. "I… I'm going to… to find…U…Unwin…_Traps_."

There was a rattle. A moment later, a door slammed shut.

Remus released the breath he had been holding. He felt Tonks slump against his arms.

It was at that point that Remus became aware – _uncomfortably _aware – of the warmth of Tonks tightly pressed against the length of his body. Her fingers were soft presses against the flesh of his arm as her breath tickled his ear in gentle squalls and he could feel the rise and fall of her chest as each breeze came…

Fighting with all his might not to blush, Remus scrambled backwards and hauled himself awkwardly to his feet just in time to see Felisha standing by the now open grate with a quizzical expression on her face.

The blush redoubled instinctively. _Damn!_

"Sorry about the delay," she said softly. "I was checking inside and my friend from security decided to chat to me before going on his rounds of the sleeping chambers. I could hardly tell him I needed to come and let you out…" She squinted as his flushed face. "Remus, are you all right?"

"Fine." Remus could only pray he sounded rather more composed than he felt. "Just a bit of a close call, that's all. We didn't expect Cymone to be here."

Felisha pulled a face. "Neither did I. She almost never comes down here. I wonder why…"

"My fault." Tonks' voice drifted from the stairs as she began to struggle upright – courtesy quickly overruling his discomfort, Remus offered his hand and pulled her gently to his feet. "I told her Zelia was down here so I could get rid of her and have a poke in Rebekah's office. Sorry about that." She grinned slightly as she dusted herself off and glanced over at Felisha. "But you were _great_. How did you know Cymone was afraid of rats?"

Felisha shrugged with a slight smile. "I didn't. But since she's afraid of just about everything else, it was worth a try."

_Rats_. In spite of himself, a shiver ran down Remus' spine. "You didn't really see a rat here, did you?" he asked softly. He saw Tonks' eyes widen slightly as she caught up with his thinking.

But to both of their relief, Felisha was shaking her head. "Not in this Institute. The warding spells around the perimeter would never allow even a spider inside without clearance. But it's a good thing Cymone doesn't know that. Now, are you two sure you're okay?"

The shiver died a merciful death. "I'm fine. Tonks?"

"_Bruised_." The metamorphmagus fixed him with a cheeky-edged mock glare. "Honestly Remus, the next time you pin me to a staircase, I expect you to have put on some nice, soft flab. You have got the _boniest_ elbows I have _ever_ felt."

Remus managed a smile. "Well, pardon me," he retorted dryly. "If you can recommend a good diet to increase my elbow fat, I'll take it gladly. But otherwise perhaps you should refrain from landing in my _lap_."

Tonks glanced across at Felisha's bemused expression before giving him a wry smile. "Nah," she replied. "The look on your face was too priceless." Bending down, she scooped her fallen clipboard from the bottom step. "But what I want to know is why a rarely used staircase has a hatch with a strong enough wand-seal on it to propel me into your lap in the first place."

_The blue flash_…Of _course_ it was! Harry's voice beyond a warded door flashed across Remus' mind. _That_ was why the glow had seemed so familiar – he had used wand-seals himself every full moon.

"That's a good question." Remus stepped passed the Auror as he bent closer to the firmly closed hatch, running his eyes over its lines as best he could in the limited light whilst carefully avoiding contact. "Felisha, do you know what this hatch is?"

He felt the researcher's presence at his side. "It's just a laundry hatch," she said, her tone distinctly surprised. "And Cymone was right, it isn't even one we used any more. When Aylward realised it gave unwarded access to the emergency stairs from the ground floor, he vanished the door of the laundry room this chute led into and sealed it over. But I don't recall him doing anything to this hatch at the time. He seemed to think sealing the room was enough."

A sealed off room accessible only by a wand-sealed laundry chute in a high clearance stairwell. The conversation on the train when they had found the note from the mysterious diary swam into Remus' mind.

"_Trapped_." Tonks' voice was soft but crystal clear, indicating that her thoughts had followed the same path. "Remus…"

_A perfect prison cell. But if so, why? And for who?_

"I know," he said softly. "But there's nothing we can do now. Without the right wand, a wand-seal could survive anything the three of us could throw at it."

Felisha glanced between the two Order members uncomfortably. "Remus, what's going on?"

Remus shook his head. "There isn't time now. We have to get in and out before anyone _else _comes along."

Felisha shook herself. "You're right. As I said, my friend from security is on the next level at the moment, inspecting the sleeping quarters. If we want to get you in unseen by anyone else on the staff, this is the only chance we're going to get."

"Then let's take it." Tonks gripped her clipboard, as she gave an uncertain smile. "It's about time we went into the werewolf's den."

Remus smiled slightly as he followed the two women back into the corridor. But inside, he was cold once more.

_This could have been my home_. The thought slipped unbidden into his mind._ Several times over._

Well, he had dodged such silver bullets before. He could only hope his luck would hold long enough for him to become the first werewolf to leave the Feral Institute's Residents Level alive.

Ahead, Felisha was tapping her wand against the smaller door in an intricate code. It released with a click.

With a deep breath, Remus gathered himself and followed her inside.

**A/N**: Many thanks to **The Great RC, Rel Fexive, Hawkgal, Howling-wolf, Sky Spade, sylthian, Disco Shrew, Unheard Chime, Analia's Broom, Camilinha, mercutio-rane, felixgirl, Amanda, Kailin, SilverStar24 **and** Gilpin** for your lovely reviews! Do I need to tell you how much I appreciate you all? Well, I shall anyway…:)

**Howling-wolf** – That's the thing about Rebekah's reasoning here. It can be viewed from both sides and neither side have the full story. ;)

**Sky Spade** – I planned this from near the end of Oblivious when I first had the sequel idea – if you skip back to one of the later chapters you'll find I name-dropped Rebekah Goldstein's book via Hermione has a kind of pre-preparation for when I wrote this. And Anthony's signature was deliberate and planned too. :)

**sylthian** – I'm not sure whether to apologise for putting you in a snit or be flattered! ;) Croll is one of those characters, like Snape actually, that you know you'd detest if you met them but are terribly fun to write for! ;)

**Disco Shrew** - blinks Ummm…a camel? Oookay…;)

**Analia's Broom** – If they failed to emerge, Dumbledore would certainly send in any cavalry he could muster, never fear in that respect. I think I've said before how pleased I am with Reynard – he turned out better than I'd ever dreamed. And I'm proud to have convinced you! Even before HBP, I always felt that any relationship they might have would be less a great, instant romance and more something that grew out of deep friendship and that's the way I always try to play it if I write them romantically. :)

**Camilinha** - Gosh, so many questions! I will elaborate more on the Prefect's Bathroom in later chapters, although I still worry that people will find it rather tame after the build-up! And I'm still not saying in regards to shipping, sorry…;)

**mercutio-rane** – The Katrina Zone? Goodness, I hope everything's okay for you (and everyone else around). That can't be fun. :( Rebekah's been dying to make this speech for a while actually – she originally tried to make it (without my consent!) the very first time she met Remus but I quickly realised that was far too soon and bumped it back to here. Hope you are okay and you continue to enjoy. :)

**felixgirl** – I think that it really was a no win situation for Remus. There is no force on earth more powerful than an angry mother….;)

**Kailin **– Croll deserves to be on a list. He is list material…;)

**Gilpin** – I know you reviewed IFTC and not here but you said you were reading this too so I felt I might as well reply here:) I can't abide people who write dull!Remus – I always feel they've rather missed the point. No man who can suggest dressing Severus Snape in a vulture-topped hat and red handbag can possibly be dull…;) I've always imagined that they came together as friends first in OOTP and what followed grew out of that too so even before HBP, that was how I liked to write them. :) And I'm not admitting anything in regards to Imperius although the chapter above ought to give you a clue…;)

The next part will be along this time next week. As always, reviews will make me very happy. :)


	13. Cabin Fever

_**13: Cabin Fever**_

Eyes.

They drilled into him from all directions, two score pairs of them, some intense, some lazy, some curious and some resentful, burning within faces that ranged from late teens to silver-haired old age, male and female both. They were scattered about within the large, open, high-ceilinged room, some settled nearby on long benches next to large wooden tables as they scraped the last of their dinner from metal plates and swilled pumpkin juice from plain goblets, others lounging casually amongst the scatter of chairs and cushions beyond, two playing Chess, one reading, three sharing a game of Snap with ordinary Muggle cards and one performing vigorous press-ups in a patch of open space. A bookshelf with a tattered collection of tomes, old battered boxes containing games and a heap of parchment and ink quills leaned against the wall behind it. Just beyond this living area, a large staircase with plain metal banisters curled up to a higher level on which Remus could just glimpse a regimented row of sturdy doors that he could only assume were the sleeping quarters; and beneath the stairs, half-missed at first, a final group of residents were huddled in what Remus could best describe as a _den_ – a cluster of tatty cushions and damaged chairs where five hard-eyed figures crouched together and glared their resentment out at the more civilised trappings beyond.

And every one wore the same plain brown robes as Dolph Greymoor. But with one addition.

On each and every wrist, an inch wide bracelet of solid metal curled tightly around the skin. Numbers were engraved upon them.

_Shackles. Numbered shackles_.

Felisha, it seemed, had followed his gaze.

"They're a security measure," she said softly, almost soothingly, her fingers brushing his wrist in a reassuring manner. "All residents are fitted with them the day they arrive – it was Alexander Aylward's idea. They're charmed to set off an alarm if they pass into any part of the Institute where residents are not permitted, or if the resident in question somehow gets hold of a wand. They also activate restriction charms in the corridors and trigger the emergency lock down procedures."

Tonks was frowning. "What about Dolph?"

Felisha shrugged slightly. "As ombudsman, Dolph is allowed to have his removed when he needs to move freely within the building. But he is always accompanied and it is always replaced at night."

_Replaced at night_… So even Dolph's apparent freedom was a pale illusion. Remus ran his gaze slowly across the room once more, guiltily avoiding the eyes that stared at one they were unaware should be among them. Comfort, Rebekah had said, and yes, while the conditions were not as dank and squalid as one might expect in a werewolf holding centre, their situation was hardly luxurious. The furniture was old and worn and damaged, the _leisure facilities_ Rebekah had mentioned apparently consisting of a few well-used games and some battered books that probably grew dull within a month. Again, it was true that this was probably a better life than most of these werewolves had been used to but that said more about the sad state of society than it did about the benefits of the Institute.

And this was their world. This one refectory, with sleeping chambers above and cages below. This was all that they would ever know until the day they died. And some of them were still only _teenagers_.

It was nightmarish to contemplate.

"Where do we start?" Tonks' quiet murmur thankfully cut into his grim musings, an abrupt reminder that he was not here just to stare. "It's hardly a mansion but I don't see anything here that Rebekah would desperately not want you to see."

Remus couldn't help but agree. Aside from a quiet resentment of the security bracelets, there was nothing here that screamed _conspiracy, secret_ or _Death Eater plans_ at him. The residents themselves, though watchful, did not have the look of people who had been subjected to Dementor related experiments – certainly, they still seemed to possess their souls. Which rather suggested that either the experiments had yet to start or things here were not quite as quiet as they seemed.

"We need to look around," he replied with equal softness. "Maybe talk to the residents. See what we can find."

"Avoid the Pack." Felisha gestured inconspicuously in the direction of the five beneath the stairs. "To call them unfriendly would be to say that Croll isn't a fluffy bunny of cheeriness. They were recruits of Kane." At Remus' sharp glance, she raised an eyebrow. "They never turned, not properly, although they were keen enough on the idea to be locked up here after they were arrested in a raid at a werewolf club called The Howling last autumn. But since they don't do anything but huddle under the stairs and scowl, Rebekah decided to spare the expense of guarding them in cells and keep them down here with the rest of the residents." She smiled slightly. "They're more bark than bite. But I doubt they'd take kindly to questions."

"Understood." Nodding in her direction, Remus allowed himself to glance around in search of a likely candidate with which to broach a conversation and one pair of eyes in particular caught his eye at once. They belonged to the reader, a blonde woman a few years his senior, who was staring at him curiously over the rim of her book. When she caught him looking, she smiled slightly, placed the book carefully aside and rose, stepping around the exerciser as she drifted over to join them. Around her, her fellow residents seemed to take this as some kind of signal – abandoning their staring, they turned listlessly back to whatever it was they had been doing. Only two other pairs of eyes remained fixed on the three new arrivals – a grizzled, unshaven man slumped over a messy plate at a nearby table and one of the Snap players, a young man with pale features and dark eyes who was watching Remus with an intense, almost uncomfortable scrutiny.

The woman halted a few yards away, rubbing her fingers absently around the rim of her security bracelet as she smiled vaguely at the researcher.

"Felisha," she greeted casually. "Everything all right?"

Felisha smiled. "Everything's fine, Censermealia." She gestured at Remus. "This is Professor Lupin. He's an old school friend of mine and he has…" She paused slightly, "… an _interest_ in werewolves. I was just showing him round."

The woman called Censermealia smiled. "Well, Professor, it's nice…"

Her pleasantry was interrupted by a loud snort. Her eyes abruptly narrowing, Censermealia turned a dark glare in the direction on the unshaven man who was smirking at the four of them over the remains of his dinner.

"Something to say, Thor?" she asked tartly.

The man called Thor twirled his fork absently between his fingers. "Now don't you get so high and mighty with me, missie," he drawled, the corner of his mouth curling with mordant amusement. "Just because you've been here fifteen years, that don't make you the boss of the rest of us. You swagger round like it's something to be proud of but to that, I say – if you're so much better than the rest of us, why didn't they make _you_ the _ombudsman_?"

To judge by the expression on Censermealia's face, this was a sore point. "Did you have a point, Wilding, or this just your daily bile attack?"

"Nothing much." Spearing half a carrot on the end of his fork, Thor Wilding dropped it into his mouth and gave a slow and indolent chew. "Just made me laugh, what she said." He gestured at Felisha with his utensil. "An _interest_ in werewolves, she called it. I'd say he's got an _interest_. You see, missie, those of us who've lived in the world up until a couple of years past would know the name _Professor Lupin_. And I'd have to say that an interest in werewolves is an odd way of saying you _are _one."

The reaction was instant. Eyes flicked up to stare, to burn, sharp, surprised, almost accusing. The young Snap player's eyes widened with shock; the exerciser ceased his motion. Even the pack of five under the stairs trained their gazes viciously upon him.

It was, to say the least, uncomfortable.

To Remus' left, Felisha bit her lip – this was clearly not a piece of information she had intended to divulge for fear of jealous consequences. To his right, he felt Tonks rest her fingertips upon his arm.

Censermealia was noticeably taken aback. But after a moment's hesitation, she slapped her smile back on.

"Join the club," she said with deliberate light-heartedness. "Or on second thoughts, _don't_. There are better clubhouses than this."

Remus smiled, genuinely. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I…"

"_Teacher_, he was." It seemed that Thor was not so willing to be tolerant. "At Hogwarts. Got thrown out for nearly _eating_ a couple of students one full moon. And yet he can walk in and out of this place on a _tour_. If I'd nearly snacked on a couple of kids, I'd be up on Level Six for _sure_."

_Prejudice from wizards for being a free werewolf. Prejudice from werewolves for being a free wizard._ Sometimes Remus felt he just couldn't win. He met Thor's stare with steely eyes, carefully pushing back his own feelings of guilt for the sake of avoiding a riot. He could see danger in the accusing eyes around him at this piece of news. He could see the words forming on their minds – _why are you free when we are not? How do you stroll in when we can never leave?_ And in all truth, he had no answer but that life was just not fair.

"Nobody was hurt," he stated softly. "And the decision to resign was my own. Not that it matters now."

"He's teaching there again." A voice cut across the room, quiet, uncertain, but crystal clear – Remus turned to find the dark eyed young man, his eyes unblinking as they burrowed into his face; for an instant, as Remus stared back, he seemed almost… _familiar_. "A few months before they brought me here. It was in the paper. They took him back. He's teaching there again."

The temperature in the refectory dropped a noticeable few degrees. Sadness, envy and anger bombarded him from every quarter.

There were no prizes for guessing Thor's reaction. With a vicious swipe of one hand, his plate went flying.

"They let you _teach_?" he roared. "They let you teach children after _that_? While we spend our lives here for _less_?"

The fork went flying from his fingers and buried itself deep into the wood of the table. His features were twisted with rage.

Remus took an instant step back. At his side, he saw Tonks reach for her wand.

Censermealia's eyes had widened with alarm – she darted past the shocked trio and rushed towards the door and the large red button that sat just next to the doorframe. Following her rush, Felisha went instantly pale.

"The Security Summons!" she gasped.

_Oh Merlin_. Images of a flock of security guards swarming upon them flashed across Remus' mind, of Rebekah's furious face. But she was already too close…

And then, a miracle. The door opened.

And Censermealia collided headlong with Dolph Greymoor.

It was hard to tell who was the most surprised. Dolph staggered backwards, grasping the door for support with his good hand as Censermealia tumbled against the doorframe with a breathless gasp. On catching a glimpse of his manicured face, she shot him a look of pure venom.

"Watch where you're going!" she snapped furiously. "This is an emergency!"

"Emergency?" Dolph's head snapped up – his eyes fixed upon Remus, Tonks and Felisha and filled instantly with shock. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a roar of fury from Thor, who was now doing his very best to upend the heavy table as his fellow residents grabbed their plates and got hurriedly out of his way. To judge by their faces, such a temper tantrum from Thor was not an unusual occurrence.

"See?" Censermealia gestured furiously in Thor's direction. "He's having one of his fits! We need help!"

Her hand darted towards the alarm. But in a sudden surge, Dolph grabbed her wrist and yanked her away from the still open door. She wheeled on him in fury.

"What the hell are you…"

"_Thor!_" Dolph's bellow froze the raging werewolf on the spot. "Oh for goodness sake, stop being so ridiculous! Or do you like being dragged off to solitary?"

Thor's grizzled features flushed. With a clatter, he dropped the table.

"Then _sod you all_!" he roared at the top of his voice. Turning on his heel, he wheeled and stamped away up the stairs. A moment later, a door slammed loudly.

With a slow, deliberate stare, Dolph turned on Censermealia, as with a vicious tug, she extracted her wrist from his grasp.

"You superior bastard," she snapped. "Just because you're ombudsman, you think you're so much better than the rest of us…"

"Oh do grow up." Dolph was massaging the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "If we called for security every time Thor had one of his tantrums, we'd see them twenty times a day. You ought to know by now that he needs momentum when he rages. All you need to do is shock him out of it. But no, you always overreact…"

"_Overreact_!" With a huff of rage, Censermealia turned and stormed away across the room, and causing the young man to scramble up out of her path as she hurled herself into her chair with such force that it sent the book that rested there flying. Her resentful glare continued to assail Dolph from a distance.

With a sigh, Dolph rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded distinctly like _cabin fever_. But then, his gaze fell once more upon Remus and Tonks and he snapped instantly to attention.

"What in Merlin's name are you two doing down here?" he exclaimed abruptly as he rushed over, awkwardly adjusting the leather sheath that held his battered arm. "You shouldn't be in the Residents Levels at all!"

Felisha stepped forward with a careful smile. "It's all right, Dolph," she said with deliberate cheerfulness. "Professor Lupin was interested in seeing how the residents live. I was just giving him a tour…"

"…When I know for a fact that Rebekah told him no and ordered him from the premises?" Felisha's mouth snapped sharply shut at Dolph's interruption. "Croll told me. He was laughing his head off about it. And he'll be laughing even harder when he comes down here in a few minutes to do the daily medical checks and finds you standing here where you were expressly forbidden to be."

Remus jumped in instantly before Felisha could speak, could dig herself more deeply into a pit from which only he could haul her free. "I'm sorry, Felisha," he said, with as much sincerity as he could muster for a fake apology. "I lied to you when I said Rebekah had given her permission. I took advantage of our friendship because I wanted to look around. I shouldn't have done that."

Felisha gave him a flash of a grateful look at his blatant efforts to scapegoat himself before quickly arranging her expression into a suitable look of hurt and shock. "Oh, Remus," she replied with feigned horror. "How could you? My job…"

Dolph was shaking his head. "There's no time for this now," he exclaimed. "Croll is on his way." He smiled slightly. "And the last thing we werewolves need is for our only reputable representative out there to be locked up here instead. The convoluted politics in this room alone will send you round the bend."

Remus managed a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Dolph scowled. "Don't stand there thanking me. Just go."

Tonks was nodding her agreement. "Remus, he's right, we need to…"

"I _do_ know you."

Fingers grasped the edge of his robes. Remus turned sharply.

The pale young man was staring at him, his dark eyes intense, his brown hair wild. His eyes were filled with sudden recognition.

"You were in The Howling." The young man's smile was slightly manic. "At the bar. I talked to you."

Remus went cold. _The Howling? Oh no, oh no, no, no, not now_…

He tried to smile. "I think you must have mistaken me for someone else."

"No." He was familiar. The young man _was _familiar Who had he talked to in The Howling apart from the barman and Kane? "No, it was you, I'm sure it was." Felisha was staring. Tonks had gone pale. Dolph had crooked an eyebrow. "You were wearing a leather coat then. And a ring."

And then, Remus remembered. A young man at the bar, his hair dyed black, his eyes illuminated by yellow contacts, talking almost desperately about his love of the club. He had called himself _Fenris_.

And now he was here. Locked up in the Institute. _Oh you foolish boy, what did you get yourself into?_

Dolph stepped forward slightly. "Daniel, this isn't a good time…"

But Daniel…Fenris… whatever name he used, was not finished. "And you came again later," he said almost dreamily. "You'd died your hair like I did. And you fought with that feral. That was the night they brought me here." He frowned slightly. "They saw the gold eyes I put in and said I had to come with them. Even when I took them out, they still said I had come." His smile was absent and alarming. "They took me but not you. And you didn't need my contacts to make your eyes go wild. For that moment you threw that feral to the wall, they went all by themselves."

Horror flooded Remus' chest in a wave of icy cold_. Oh dear Merlin_.

He'd wondered. He knew he had got close that night to turning, that he had narrowly avoided a full blown feral incident that night when Kane had goaded him with tales of killing his mother. But to know that in that instant, his eyes had turned feral gold…

He had been even closer than he'd known.

And others had _seen_ it. _Daniel_ had seen it. And if word got back to…

And then, from the direction of the open door, a throat was softly cleared.

Ice froze to arctic. Remus turned his head.

Flanked by the grim Aylward and the smirking Croll, Rebekah Goldstein was staring at him with a mixture of surprise and fury. She folded her arms.

"Well, Professor," she said quietly. "Aren't you full of surprises?"

**A/N**: For any readers who, like my beta, believe that Censermealia is rather an excessive and unrealistic name for a minor character, I would like to say that the name Censermealia, along with Undine, Cymone, Zelia, Thor and a variation on the spelling of Arcadius Croll are all names that I have shamelessly borrowed from real people whose forms have passed through my hands at work and I just _had_ to use somewhere. And you thought Tonks had it bad…;)

Many thanks to **The Great RC, Rel Fexive, merlinsister12, Howling-Wolf, Sycogerl64, Kailin, sylthian, snitchnipper, Gilpin, Jamie88, hafguk, Analia's Broom, aurelie1, mercutio-rane, felixgirl, Camilinha, FireChildSlytherin5, InsaneMonkeyPirate **and** Liv Naravul** for your lovely reviews! How nice you all are…:)

A Few Specific Responses:

**merlinsister12** – The family dinner scene is chapter 17 so I'm afraid you've a couple of weeks to wait yet though hopefully it will be worth it! A few other things need to happen first…;)

**Howling-Wolf** – And you thought that one was close? ;)

**Sycogerl64** – Because you know my evil mind? You were right about Rebekah popping up, you were just a chapter ahead of me…;)

**Kailin **– Alas, no. Hence the uh-oh…;)

**sylthian** – I'll admit, my original intent was that they transform in their rooms. But that didn't exactly seem very – as you put it – institutional! And sorry about the waiting but I do my best to make sure I'm a few chapters ahead so that it can be a weekly instalment rather than waiting goodness knows how long. But I just can't write any faster than a chapter a week anymore I'm afraid – I wish I could:)

**snitchnipper** – Ack! –slaps foolish self across the head- You caught me, that's an authorial cock-up – he's not supposed to call her anything but Undine in company yet. I shall simply have to say – I slipped up so Remus can too! Oops! ;)

**aurelie1 **– Bless you. :) Better late than never though and as long as you're enjoying it:) And yep, they are a bit crazy…;)

**mercutio-rane** – I hope you and your family all escaped hurricane free. And I couldn't resist that bit of affectionate slapstick…;)

**felixgirl **– Meanie! Don't torture Remus! You'll put me out of a job…;)

**Camilinha** - We'll see. :)

**Gilpin** – The embarrassment factor – well, with Felisha there is a specific reason behind it that shall be addressed in a couple of chapters' time. And with Tonks, it's really because he's already on edge because Felisha is about and then suddenly becomes aware of a distinctly female Tonks in his lap and he becomes embarrassed because he assumes that _she_ (Tonks) won't like it…;)

Thank you all again! The next part will be along this time next week but please enjoy and review this one! In spite of the cliffie…;)


	14. Hidden Meanings

**A/N**: After last week's dramatic cliffie, I hope this chapter isn't too much of a disappointment. But I have good reasons for it…;)

_**14: Hidden Meanings**_

_She heard_.

_Oh dear Merlin, she heard_.

Remus struggled to breath. He felt exposed, naked, his deepest secret laid out at the feet and the questionable mercy of a woman who hated him utterly. That the incident for which he was about to be condemned had not been a true feral incident was not the point. He had dodged silver bullets before, but this one was about to do him in. For when Daniel had "outted" him as a potential feral in front of the Head of the Feral Institute, he had condemned him to share his fate, at the hands of the Institute or the Death Eaters. It seemed that he would not be the first werewolf to leave the Residents Level alive after all.

But he would be damned if he would take anyone else down with him.

"Don't blame Felisha for bringing me here," he said, his voice surprising calm considering the turmoil in his chest. "I lied to her, told her I had your permission. We knew each other from school so she believed me. This isn't her fault. And Undine didn't want to come at all…"

Rebekah's eyes narrowed coldly. "Oh don't worry, Professor. I'm not planning on blaming this on anyone but you. Such utter disrespect and lack of regard for the rules is no more than I'd expect from you."

Remus braced his shoulders. "Well, I was fairly sure this was the last chance I would have to meet the residents."

"And you'd be right." Rebekah flicked a glance at Aylward. "Escort him out."

For a moment, Remus was certain he'd misheard. "Pardon?"

Rebekah's eyes drilled into his. "I want you out, Professor Lupin. And I never intend to ask you back. I really have had _quite _enough of you. Aylward."

Remus was so shocked that he barely reacted as Aylward took a firm grip on his arm and escorted him roughly towards the door. He caught a brief glimpse of Felisha as she whispered something quickly to Tonks – and then the Auror too was being hauled in the direction of the exit. He saw Croll, his face suddenly furious, saw Dolph disbelieving but vaguely satisfied and then the refectory was out of sight. They were propelled into the lift without downright roughness, all but shoved through the lift chamber and down the corridor and then the archway parted and both Remus and Tonks found themselves tumbled unceremoniously out onto the moor. A moment later, the archway had sealed behind them.

Tonks stared at Remus. Remus stared at Tonks. They both stared at the solid bulk of the Institute.

It was Remus who first found his voice. "What in the name of Merlin just happened? I thought I'd be on my way to Level Six by now."

"So did I." Gathering her fallen clipboard, Tonks managed to haul herself to her feet. "I was sure she must have heard him."

"Me too." Extracting heather from the hem of his robes, Remus also stumbled upright. Exchanging a look, the two friends turned and quickly began the walk towards the wooded valley and the steam train – neither wanted to be about should Rebekah change her mind. And Remus still could not believe it, could not believe he was breathing fresh air and walking free after what Rebekah had surely overheard.

_Another silver bullet dodged… but how?_

"I just don't understand," Tonks was shaking her head. "I'd have thought she'd have jumped at the chance to lock you up. Especially considering the diary…"

"We still don't know that was hers, Tonks…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Tonks waved a dismissive hand. "But even so. She _hates _you, Remus. You'd have thought she'd have loved to see you locked up and miserable at her mercy."

Remus couldn't disagree with that. "She can't have heard. She'd never have let me go otherwise."

Tonks pulled a face. "You know, given your popularity at the Ministry, she'd probably have been able to swing an internment with just a trespass charge." Her adopted features grew suddenly thoughtful. "But then again, if she is about to start secret experiments, the last thing she'd need would be the fuss that would come from interning you."

Remus stared at her. "Pardon?"

Tonks shrugged. "Well, Dolph had a point, Remus. As werewolves go, you're pretty high profile. For you to be taken into the Feral Institute would be big news. Dumbledore would make a fuss. The Prophet would take an interest. Is that the kind of attention you'd want if you were a Death Eater conducting top secret research for You-Know-Who?"

Remus frowned in reply. "Tonks, we don't know that she's the Death Eater. After all, if today proved anything it's that she has more than enough other reasons to hate me…"

"_Exactly!_" Tonks emphasised the word with a slap against her clipboard. "And if it was just hate, do you think she would have passed up an opportunity like this to lock you up? No, of _course_ she wouldn't. Not unless she had a reason – a reason like not wanting the bad publicity to risk exposing her plans."

"Or a moral code that prevents her from acting out of a selfish desire for revenge."

Tonks gave an exasperated sigh. "Remus, if she heard you, a moral code would have nothing to do with it. Locking up ferals is her _job_."

"Then I guess she didn't hear me."

"Or she did hear you but isn't _ready_ for you yet." Tonks' features contorted with sudden concern – almost unconsciously, the Auror reached over and wrapped her arm around his. "Which also brings the possibility that Rebekah _did_ hear what Daniel said and she's waiting until she _need_s you to have you arrested."

Remus sighed deeply. "_If_ she's the Death Eater. I'm still not convinced. Croll let slip to me today that he's an old friend of Snape's and though I'm not jumping to any conclusions…" He saw Tonks roll her eyes distinctly, "I would be very interested to know just how old a friend he is. Not to mention he looked downright furious when Rebekah released me and has stated several times just how much he'd like to see me interned as a resident."

"Well, he is a git," Tonks stated conversationally. She laughed suddenly. "Look at the pair of us," she said almost wryly. "You with your determination to think the best of everyone no matter how they treat you and me with my Auror honed instincts to automatically assume the worst. What a team, eh?"

Remus smiled more genuinely. "At least we're looking at the problem from all sides. And since the truth is probably somewhere between us, at least we stand a chance of catching it."

He felt Tonks shiver slightly against him. "As long as it doesn't catch you first. Mate, if you don't mind me saying, I don't think you should go wandering off alone outside of Hogwarts for a while. Both Croll and Rebekah were in earshot of Daniel's outburst and if either of them _is _the Death Eater, we're right back at the possibility that they're biding their time before coming to get you."

Remus sighed again. "Wonderful," he remarked dryly. "As if my life wasn't complicated enough. Now I have to live every day in fear of being dragged off to werewolf prison to live with Thor Wilding and the Pack."

Tonks leaned her blonde, curly head against his shoulder wearily. "All in all, we've had better days. I see a certain creek ahead, but we appear to be lacking a paddle."

"Not just us." Remus glanced back over his shoulder, his cheek brushing absently against soft hair as he tried to fight the worry that gnawed at his heart for the woman they had been forced to leave behind. "We've dragged poor Felisha right down the creek with us."

He could feel Tonks' eyes upon him as her head lifted sharply. "I think she'll be all right. She put on a good show and so did you."

Remus made a noncommittal noise. "I hope so. Though I can hardly owl her to ask." He glanced down at Tonks. "What did she say to you just before they tossed us out?"

"Oh!" Tonks clicked her fingers. "Glad you reminded me. Do you remember we said that we'd arranged to meet outside the Institute for a chat? Well, just before I was dragged out, she said it was still on. On her day off, next Saturday, at the Three Broomsticks. A few well placed silencing spells and we'll be able to talk freely without looking like we're hiding away."

"Saturday?" Remus twisted his lip. "That's nearly a week. Anything could happen…"

"I think Felisha knows what she's doing." There was a bite of impatience to Tonks' tone. "And it would look suspicious if she tried to sneak out any sooner." She squeezed him arm. "She'll be fine, Remus. I'm sure of it. And while she's still inside, maybe she'll find the answer to the other great mystery of how the hell we got _caught_."

Remus looked at her sideways. "Rebekah walked in on us, Tonks. _That's _how we got caught."

"I know that." Tonks thumped him lightly with her clipboard. "But _how _did she know we were there? Dolph said Croll was coming but not Rebekah. Censermealia didn't make it to the alarm. So why did Rebekah Goldstein in all her sneering glory suddenly appear at the door?"

Remus went cold. "Someone told her."

Tonks nodded. "I see three choices. When I hit the wand sealed door, it set off some kind of alarm that she came to investigate and overheard the racket of Thor through the open door. Possible, but then why risk bringing Aylward and Croll along for the ride? Or she might have come down to search for Cymone's rats – but surely rat hunting is rather beneath her and the Head of Security. And so we face choice number three. Either someone saw us coming up here and told her or someone in that room did."

"How?" Remus considered it a fair enough question. "No one could have left that room without setting off an alarm apart from Dolph. And he was with us the whole time."

Tonks shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe we got seen on our way after all. Maybe Croll came sooner than Dolph thought and went back to get her. Maybe Cymone was more suspicious of our scrabbling than she let Felisha know. But I think we may also have to face the possibility that our Death Eater has an _accomplice_." She smiled ruefully. "You know what they say – you spending ages looking for one Death Eater and then two come along at once…"

Remus smiled wanly. "I think you may be over reacting. We were _trespassing_, Tonks, and anyone who saw us would almost certainly feel obliged to report it or check with Rebekah whether we were supposed to be there. Our Death Eater, whoever they may be, most likely had nothing to do with it. Besides, whether we're facing one Death Eater, or two, or a hundred, I think one thing is pretty obvious. I'm not likely to go back to the Feral Institute except as a resident. And that means they have free reign to do as they please."

Tonks' grip tightened once more. "Which means if I have any say about it, you're never going back at all. But we'll find a way, Remus. We'll find a way to stop them."

Remus gazed blankly out across the empty moor and gave a deep sigh.

"I only hope you're right," he said softly. "For all our sakes."

Dumbledore took the news of their expulsion from the Institute stoically. Kingsley Shacklebolt did not.

"Now what are we supposed to do?" The tall black Auror proclaimed as he leaned wearily against the fireplace in Dumbledore's office; Remus watched silently from his armchair nearby, Tonks resting against the wall a few yards away, her features now restored to the familiar heart-shaped face and vivid pink hair. "That place and any information about it is kept tightly restricted. The Institute is Dolores Umbridge's darling – one of her first acts when she became Senior Undersecretary was to have its funding boosted and its powers increased. And anyone caught poking around too deeply into their activities is likely to find themselves on a short, sharp trip to the Centaur Liaison Office. Without Remus and Tonks to investigate on the inside, You-Know-Who can do whatever he pleases there."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers gently in front of his crooked nose as he leaned forwards. "At least they are safe," he responded quietly. Kingsley glanced up at the statement, his expression flickering with a hint of guilt. "And thanks to their diligent investigations, we do at least have two prime suspects in Rebekah Goldstein and Arcadius Croll, not to mention a potential informant on the inside."

Remus sat forwards at once. "I don't want to involve Felisha any more than can he helped," he interjected, his voice quiet but firm. "She's already risked her job and possibly her life to help us. She's already trapped in a bad situation and the last thing I wish to do is endanger her further."

Dumbledore nodded gently. "Of course not. It was good of her to help you and we should not take advantage of that. But at the same time, Remus – she is now our only connection to the inside of a situation with the potential to strength Lord Voldemort alarmingly."

"And a tentative connection at that," Tonks said softly. "Whose movements and correspondence will probably be watched from now on. But at least she has proved herself resourceful enough to cope."

The rats conversation flashed through Remus' mind. He smiled.

Kingsley shook his head wearily. "I'm doing my best to dig up any information I can on both the staff and the residents at the Institute," he said with a sigh. "But I'm having to work quietly and my department is already pushed to the limits. But I don't know what else is left for us to do."

"I shall speak to Professor Snape about his acquaintance with Croll," Dumbledore said abruptly. "If he is known in Death Eater circles, Severus will probably know of it. And Nymphadora, any assistance you can offer to Kingsley would be appreciated."

Tonks bowed her head. "Of course."

Remus almost didn't like to ask. "And me?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes were sympathetic. "Teach your classes, Remus and try to avoid going out alone. If your suspicions are correct, you may still be in danger."

Remus battled a swell of intense frustration. "Why am I always the one who gets removed from the case for my own safety?"

Dumbledore smiled gently. "You have, in part at least, just answered your own question. I'm afraid, Remus, that this is the disadvantage of having people who care about you."

Tonks smiled too, though wanly. Kingsley gave a soft chuckle.

The Headmaster adjusted his glasses with one long finger. "You will, provided it is safe for your both to do so, remain Felisha Hathaway's principle contact. Though I would appreciate it if Nymphadora could join you at any meetings."

Remus hardened his jaw in an effort to conceal his annoyance. "I _can _look after myself."

There was a distinct tightness to the smile Tonks flashed at him. "Don't fancy a chaperone, Remus?"

Remus settled back into his chair with a sigh, fighting the ridiculous urge to flush. "You _know_ that's not the point," he replied with a sigh. "It's just…"

But his words fell away, cut off by a loud tapping against the window. Tonks, who was closest, hurriedly drew her wand and, stumbling only slightly, hurried over to the dark glass. After a brief fumble with the latch, she yanked it open.

A flustered looking barn owl dropped down onto the windowsill out of the cool night air. It extended its leg. Fumbling a little, Tonks took the letter, dropped a few Knuts into the owl's pouch and then closed the window as it launched back into the night. For a moment, she hesitated, examining the seal on the back of the envelope and Remus saw her shoulders give an ominous clench. She turned to face three pairs of curious eyes.

"It's for Remus," she said, her voice uncertain. "From the Institute."

Remus came to his feet at once, accepting the letter from her outstretched hand as he dropped back into his chair and stared at the familiar wolf-print seal of the Feral Institute. He flipped it quickly to the front.

The words _Professor Lupin, Hogwarts School_, had been written neatly across front. And Remus knew the handwriting.

"It's from Felisha!" he exclaimed, losing no time in ripping the envelope open. The note inside was short and he rapidly devoured its contents.

_To Professor Remus Lupin,_

_I was deeply offended by your use of our friendship to trick me into risking my job by taking you into an area of the Institute that you had been forbidden to enter. Though I have managed to retain my position, no thanks to you, the situation here has been made far more difficult by your interference – we are now forbidden to enter the Residents Level unless accompanied by Professor Goldstein herself, which of course severely hampers our research. If I ever have the misfortune to run into you again, I look forward to seeing the expression on your face as you deliver a full and unrestrained apology for your behaviour, preferably in public. And do not even think about attempting to return to the Institute – you will certainly be arrested if you do. You are extremely fortunate not to have been arrested already – Dr Croll raged for over an hour about your unexpected release. To conclude, I thought you were my friend, Remus. But now I'm not even sure I want to see you alone._

_Felisha Hathaway_.

Remus let out the breath he had not even realised he had been holding. He felt himself smile. _Well done, Felisha_.

Both Tonks and Kingsley were hovering anxiously at his shoulder.

"What does she say?" Tonks asked at once.

Remus leaned back against the back of his chair, feeling his heart lighten with every breath. "I'll read it out," he told them and did so.

By the time he drew the letter to a close, Tonks was smiling broadly and Kingsley looked impressed.

"Clever girl," he said with a grin. "In one letter she's told us without telling us that she hasn't lost her job, that Rebekah's up to something on the Residents Level, Croll's annoyed you got away and that she still wants to meet you, as long as Tonks goes too. And anyone else who reads it will probably just think she's _ranting _at you."

Remus felt oddly proud of her. "She was in Ravenclaw," he told Kingsley. "Always good with words."

"Indeed she was," Dumbledore was also smiling. "I remember Felisha Hathaway well. She is an intelligent woman and quick to grasp things."

Biting back a grin, Tonks glanced at Remus with a raised eyebrow. This time there was no stopping the flush.

Tonks laughed out loud and punched his shoulder heartily. "Well, mate," she said with a wicked smile. "By the looks of your face, I'd better play chaperone on Saturday after all. Otherwise, goodness _knows _what mischief you'll get up to."

**A/N**: Many thanks to **silvanelf, Thee-Unknown-Factor, Kailin, Rel Fexive, The Great RC, pigwidgeon385, FireChildSlytherin5, Author Gal, Howling-wolf, sylthian, Analia's Broom, Jamie88, Liv Naravul, aurelie1, india, felixgirl, Lucathia Rykatu, Adre, a happy bibliophile, Mandalen, igotbannedfroma2k, YaminekoHyousai, mercutio-rane, Pinkpanther, Camilinha **and **vefa** for all your lovely reviews! You are all very nice people and deserving of cookies. :)

**A Few Responses**:

**Kailin** – I think Remus' problem is that I suspect he makes a very convenient and public hate figure…:(

**The Great RC** – Quite. But see, he got away with it – for now…;)

**pigwidgeon385** – Hello! Glad you found it! I've been trying to start posting this at Mugglenet but I've been waiting a fortnight now for them to post the last part of my short story In From The Cold, and of course you can only have one thing submitted at a time. I know they're busy but it is a bit annoying… -sigh- And I actually wrote the first few chapters of this fic before HBP was released so the similarities with horcruxes is actually a coincidence:)

**Author Gal** – Or d) They are let off for mysterious and as yet unexplained reasons….-laughs evilly- And you thought your options were bad…;)

**Howling-wolf** – Will that do? I suspect that was the most unexpected and probably most dull get out clause but I do have a good reason for it so bear with me…;)

**Liv Naravul **– Sooooo…. Not fond of Daniel then? ;) Go easy on him, he's had a tough time… And see, not so bad… for now…;) I will admit, we are now into chapters written during the overtime season at the college I work at which means I'm more tired than usual at the weekends at present and so I hope any perceived drop in quality is just due to that. In other words, I'm knackered! ;)

**felixgirl** – See? Not in the Institute so your gibbering can be saved for a later date….;)

**Lucathia Rykatu** – Well spotted. :) And if there was one thing HBP brought home to me it's how stuck in the middle our poor Remus is…:(

**a happy bibliophile** – You want a duel? Have patience…;)

**igotbannedfroma2k **– As I said to pigwidgeon, welcome and glad you've found me. I am going to post this at Mugglenet but the site is so slow at the moment I can't get it up….-sigh- So you're probably better off here. :)

**mercutio-rane** – I think I've read that one – Blood, Ice and Fire is it? Something like that – but it was good! Your version is more openly nasty than mine – in mine the nastiness is more covert…;)

I hope you all enjoyed that so please review and let me know what you thought:)


	15. At The Three Broomsticks

**A/N:** This chapter was supposed to be a little section preceding the events of the next - but guess who wrote too much:)

_**15: At The Three Broomsticks**_

It proved to be a very long week.

It wouldn't have been so bad had he had the pleasure of his classes to distract him. But the Easter holidays were upon Hogwarts and suddenly there was a distinct dearth of ways in which to occupy himself. So Remus marked until there was no more marking. Remus read until he was sick of the sight of the words. Remus ate enough meals to send Madam Pomfrey and Molly Weasley into raptures of joy.

But most of all, Remus worried.

He had received no further word from Felisha but that did not surprise him. To judge by the manner of her last missive, communications in and out of the Institute were likely being monitored, which meant that attempting to contact her in any way would probably condemn her. Her silence suggested that she had more sense than to incriminate herself. And although Remus had racked his brain to find a discreet but rapid means by which they could remain in touch, he had thus far failed to find any inspiration. There was little choice but to wait until Saturday.

He could only hope that she would arrive safe and well to meet him. He could only pray that she would stay unharmed.

For if he proved responsible for any ill that might befall her, he knew he could never forgive himself.

Remus was not without correspondents however. Tonks kept in regular touch, although her messages were mostly various forms of frustrated ranting in regards to the difficulty of squeezing out any kind of information about the staff and residents of the Feral Institute. Dumbledore had summoned Remus to his office on Monday to inform him that although Severus Snape had indeed admitted that the Crolls were old friends of his mother's family, he was not personally aware of any Death Eater connection. He had however, said he would look into it.

The quiet few days that followed gave Remus ample time to order his thoughts in regards to the staff of the Institute. He still could not bring himself to form a definite suspicion in regards to the identity of the Institute's concealed Death Eater between the two prime suspects – although Rebekah's behaviour was indeed suspicious, it was possible to frame much of it behind scientific curiosity and a healthy dislike of the werewolf who had endangered her son. Croll would have been tentatively at the top of his personal list, but for the fact that Snape had denied any knowledge of an overt Death Eater connection. As far as Remus was aware, the only other member of staff with high enough clearance to access Kane unaccompanied was Aylward, but the man was inscrutable as a brick. There would be no clues forthcoming on that front.

Friday had brought a surprise – a firecall from Reynard to inform him that a letter had arrived from Rolphe Lupin, offering his profound apologies that the dinner on Sunday would have to be postponed by a week to the Sunday following. Apparently his eldest son had been called away on an urgent business trip to Europe, whilst one of his daughters had declared that her work would make it very difficult to get away. But both had apparently promised to keep the following weekend free and so the dinner had been pushed back by a week instead. He hoped that this was not an inconvenience.

Reynard had been unable to conceal his disappointment. But Remus had successfully covered up his relief. At least that gave him one less imminent thing to worry about.

Saturday dawned and Remus had still not formulated a potential solution to the communications blackout with Felisha. But a glimpse of a balaclava-ed Marietta Edgecombe trudging wearily out of the Great Hall after breakfast brought to mind a conversation he had shared with Harry over the previous summer about his work with the DA and the means by which they had kept in touch. So as soon as breakfast was out of the way, Remus scanned the Gryffindor table and, failing to find the face he was searching for, headed instead in the direction of the library.

And as he had hoped, he found Hermione Granger at a table near the window, bent over several large and tightly written books as she scribbled cramped notes onto a scroll of parchment.

"Hello Hermione."

He felt rather guilty at the manner in which she jumped, blotting ink onto her parchment as her head flew up and wide eyes fixed upon him in surprise.

"Professor Lupin!" she exclaimed, her nose wrinkling as she grabbed her wand and muttered an incantation to erase the mess she had made. "You startled me!"

Remus smiled gently as he settled himself down on the chair opposite, peering at her over the mountain of books in which she had been engrossed. "Sorry about that," he apologised sincerely. "And I'm sorry to interrupt your studies, but there's something I need to ask you about. A spell you did for the DA?"

She blinked, looking surprised at the prospect that a _teacher_ might chose to come to _her _for academic information but there was a definite hint of pride behind her eyes as well. For a moment, Remus could have sworn that she sat up slightly straighter in her seat.

"Of course, Professor," she said smartly. "What do you need to know?"

Remus leaned forwards, carefully lowering his voice. "Harry mentioned a while ago that you devised a secret means by which the DA could communicate. I was hoping you could tell me about it."

If there was one thing Hermione was profoundly not, it was stupid. "Does this have something to do with the Institute?" she inquired with equal softness.

Remus pulled himself round the table slightly, leaning over one of the books as though he was examining her work. "Yes," he replied, his eyes not leaving the page as he traced one finger carefully along one page. He only hoped that no one was close enough to spot it was a Potions text. "I have an…_ally_ amongst the staff there. We need a way to stay in touch that can't be monitored by any unfriendly elements. Her post is being watched and meeting regularly is too suspicious."

Hermione's brow wrinkled as she too pretended to be engrossed in the book before them. "We didn't send messages," she admitted, flipping a page absently. "I cast a Protean charm on some fake Galleons that enchanted them to show the time of our next meeting. They grew hot when a date appeared. But we all knew the place and what it meant so there was no need for any more."

Remus tapped a finger thoughtfully against his lip. Though the idea was simple, it had possibilities. "But it would work for a short message if the charm was right," he mused out loud. "It wouldn't need much. A time and place for a meeting or one word warnings would probably do. Could you show me the spell you used?"

Hermione smiled. "Of course I can Professor. But it might not be a good idea to do it in the middle of the library…"

"Of course not." Abruptly, Remus came to his feet. "I hope that helps, Hermione," he said more audibly. "If you need anything else, I'll be in my office for the next couple of hours. Do drop by if you have any questions."

Hermione's smile told him that she had got the message. "Thank you Professor Lupin, she replied cheerfully. "I'll bear that in mind."

An hour later, Remus was the proud owner of three silver Sickles that would grow hot when enchanted with the time and place of a meeting. Hermione Granger really was an exceptionally clever young lady.

Evening rolled around at long, long last. Remus set out briskly across the Hogwarts grounds, waving as cheerfully as he could manage at Hagrid as he strode towards the gates. However, a surprise awaited him beneath the right hand pillar.

"Wotcher Remus."

Spiky pink hair punctured the quiet, fading light. A cheeky grin beamed from a heart-shaped face.

Remus placed his hands on his hips with a sigh, fighting a surge of downright irritation. _He'd already said_… "I thought we were meeting at the Three Broomsticks."

Tonks pushed herself upright and wandered over to his side, her grin still broad but distinctly pointed. "I'm sure you did. However if you think back, I'm sure you'll also remember that Dumbledore said you weren't to go wandering off alone. And since I don't intend to have you vanish between here and Hogsmeade, I came to keep you company."

Remus raised an eyebrow with a deliberate frown. "Actually, vanishing between here and Hogsmeade was _exactly _what I was intending to do. I'm not _always_ too tired to apparate, you know. And I do _not _need an escort."

Tonks' grin faded into a more genuine smile. "Will a concerned friend do instead?"

Remus felt his annoyance fade. After all, she was only trying to help.

He smiled. "She'll do fine. Ready to apparate?"

Tonks cocked her head. "Out front of the pub?"

Remus nodded. "One, two…"

On three, twin cracks echoed into the draw of evening. A moment later, the bright lights outside the front of the Three Broomsticks almost dazzled him.

A hand caught his elbow – Tonks appeared abruptly at his side. "See, you do need an escort," she informed him brightly. "You were a whole three foot off target."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Are you coming?"

They moved quickly inside. As one might expect on a Saturday night, the Three Broomsticks was heaving with people, old and young – a quick glance and several ducked heads were enough to tell Remus that several of the younger faces felt that they perhaps weren't supposed to be here. If it hadn't been the Easter Holidays, he would have been obliged to issue detentions. But as it was, he simply smiled slightly and followed Tonks over towards Madam Rosmerta at the bar.

"Felisha said she was going to try and book a room for the night," Tonks' voice was a hushed whisper against his ear. "Because she's live-in staff, she likes to spend a night away from the Institute sometimes but she doesn't always get permission for it. If we ask Rosmerta, she'll be able to tell us if she's booked in or not."

Rosmerta was quick to discreetly inform them that Felisha Hathaway was indeed booked in to Room 3 near the top of the stairs. "She arrived about an hour ago," the barmaid informed them in a hushed voice as she noisily passes them a pair of clinking butterbeers. "She's been waiting for you." Abruptly, her voice swelled in volume. "Certainly, professor. Here you go." Pointedly, she reached out and dropped a heavy key into his palm. "You and your lady friend can use Room 4. Enjoy."

Remus could sense the burn of young, curious student eyes and fought manfully not to blush. At his side, a surprisingly flushed Tonks was battling with laughter at the sight of the look on his face.

"Rosmerta!" he hissed under his breath. "What are you…?"

The barmaid gave a deliberate smile. "I'm covering for you," she replied too sweetly, her tone discreetly hushed but her eyes darting playfully between the two of them. "After all, Hogwarts is hardly the place for a young couple such as yourselves to... ahem…_meet_. And half the village already knows that's why we have so many visits from Professor…"

"_Rosmerta_." Remus, tone was polite but firm as he forestalled any surprising revelations about his colleagues. He could almost sense the strain of student ears, the feel of curious stares but he deliberately forced himself to smile. Embarrassing as it was, it was better than fielding gossip about why he was _really_ there. "Thank you," he said more audibly.

Rosmerta's smile was outright cheeky. "Enjoy!" she said loudly.

Remus was on the verge of blessing her with his politest look of death when he felt a slender hand curl around his arm. Her eyes filled with purest wickedness, Tonks smiled at him with mock seductiveness.

"Come on darling," she drawled with a pout. "I don't want to waste a minute with you."

By the time they reached the stairs, Remus had formulated one hundred and seventy-six different ways in which to kill her.

As they moved around the curl of the steps, out of the curious gazes of the bar patrons, Tonks took the opportunity to dissolve into helpless laughter.

"_Your face!_" she exclaimed, clinging to his arm as though it was the only thing able to keep her upright in her hysteria. "Oh, if I'd had a camera, I swear…"

Remus was somewhat less than amused. "Bloody Rosmerta," he muttered irritably. "Why did she have to do that? She must have known there were _students_ in that room."

Tonks smirked. "Well, it _was_ funny. You went the most amazing shade of pink."

Remus sighed deeply. "But she didn't have to…" He huffed in annoyance. "Why are women so impossible to understand?" he declared abruptly.

Tonks gave him a long, slow look. "_Thanks_," she drawled dryly.

Remus waved a distracted hand. "You don't count. I don't think of you as a woman."

The narrowing menace of Tonks' eyes told him fluently that this had _not _been the right thing to say. "You're not helping your case, Lupin," she told him darkly. "I'd offer a hand to dig that hole but you seem to be managing quite well by yourself."

Remus struggled valiantly to recover. "I mean you're my _friend_, Tonks. You don't confuse me in the same way."

Tonks snorted. "I'm not sure if that's good or bad."

Remus seized this lifeline. "Oh, it's good, believe me. You say what you mean. Why can't the rest of your gender do the same?"

Tonks' grin was slow and wicked – one hand reached out and playfully ruffled his hair.

"Because we wouldn't get to see the adorable looks of confusion on your little faces!" she exclaimed. "And that's just the _best _part of all."

Remus regarded her. "I take it back. You are a woman."

Tonks beamed. "Most of the time, anyway. Except when duty compels me to take my drag act on the road."

"In rainbow striped socks."

"Excuse me, you would have been locked up if not for me and my socks."

"I was locked up anyway."

"Only overnight."

They reached the top of the stairs. Remus reached up and with his free hand, absently returned his hair to some kind of order. "You can see my point though," he said almost plaintively. "When word gets around the common rooms that I was seen going upstairs at the Three Broomsticks with a woman with pink hair, wearing a Weird Sisters t-shirt…"

A distinct lowering of the temperature stayed his tongue. Tonks was regarding him with sudden, frosty irritation. A hand thumped painfully hard against his shoulder. "And just what is _wrong_ with being seen going upstairs with a woman with pink hair in a Weird Sisters t-shirt?"

_Uh-oh. _

Now _there_ was a dangerous question, the kind of question that every man knew it was impossible to answer correctly, especially in the company of a woman who was staring at him with eyes filled with outright threat. Nonetheless, Remus foolishly braved the quagmire.

"Well, nothing," he managed boldly. "But I don't like the thought of people making assumptions…"

Danger signals were flashing violently in Tonks' eyes. "And you think people would be more inclined to make assumptions about a woman with pink hair wearing a Weird Sisters t-shirt?"

Remus could not have dug himself more deeply if he'd had an army of enchanted shovels. "_No_," he said as carefully and diplomatically as he could manage.

"Then why are you embarrassed to be seen going upstairs with me?"

"I'm _not_."

"Yes, you are."

_How in Merlin's name had he got into this?_ "All right, I am." It was a reaction wrought with peril but Remus braved it all the same. "But only because you're my _friend_. And I'd have thought a pretty young woman like you would be more embarrassed to be seen with an old werewolf like me."

"Well, if you think that then you're a dafter prat than I took you for."

"Tonks…"

She fixed him with an inscrutable look. "I'm sorry, Remus. I just don't like the thought that my closest friend is embarrassed to be seen with me."

"I'm _not_. It's just…"

What it was just, Remus had little to no idea. But he was saved the trouble of wading deeply when the door to Room three burst open to reveal a pale and anxious Felisha.

"Remus!" she exclaimed. "It's about time!"

The argument with Tonks was forgotten instantly. Stepping out of her grasp, Remus hurriedly instantly to his old schoolmate's side.

"Felisha!" he exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

Felisha was instantly shaking her head. "Not out here," she said immediately. "Remus, I found something out today, something that scares the hell out of me. But I'm not going to discuss it in a corridor."

Remus felt a chill run down his spine. _Now what?_

"Then I guess we'd better go inside," he said.

**A/N**: For anyone who was wondering why the family dinner had been shunted back a week in the timeline; it's not for any great or wonderful plot reasons. It's because your humble author suddenly noticed one day that she'd only put three weeks between two full moons...;) Also, Sunday was my birthday! Scarily, I am now in the latter half of my twenties shudders… But I had a nice day and got a new bed and a smoothie maker which I don't think you can argue with…;)

Many thanks to **Liv Naravul, The Great RC, Rel Fexive, Jamie88, Dragongirl19, Howling-wolf, iamlordmoldyshorts, Mandalen, aurelie1, Kailin, sylthian, Author Gal, Anon, felixgirl, Gilpin **and** InsaneMonkeePirate **for your lovely reviews. Look at this grin. :D It's all down to you. ;)

**A Few Responses**:

**Liv Naravul** – Chocolate is a good philosophy for recuperation and one to which I am loyal, never fear! I'm not studying – I work at a college! "Overtime Season" is a personal term I use for September/October because, in my job in college administration, this is the time of year when we are flooded with enrolment forms and have to work overtime to get them all on. Hence, knackered-ness…;)

**The Great RC** – The family dinner is chapters 17 and 18. Hang on, you're almost there! ;)

**Jamie88** – Yeah, so did he…;)

**iamlordmoldyshorts **– Good luck with your exam! And the family dinner is chapter 17 and 18 so not long to go now:)

**Author Gal** – Admit it, it wouldn't be half as much fun if I told you what was coming! I'm doing this entirely for the benefit of my readers and certainly _not_ for the perverse pleasure of it….;)

**felixgirl** – You'll find out more about the Bathroom Incident in next week's chapter but I still live in fear that the reality won't live up to the hype. It wasn't that exciting, I'm afraid! ;) And Daniel is supposed to be a pity figure really, the poor lad is highly screwed up. But I agree that Remus needs hugs! ;)

**Gilpin** – I do like the way Tonks and Remus seem to balance each other and I try to play that. And as you can see, Felisha has been contacted….;)

Many thanks again for your reviews and please continue to do so:)


	16. Naked

**A/N**: So here is the chapter that will reveal the truth behind the Bathroom Incident. I'm sorry if it's not as interesting as the hype! ;)

_**16: Naked**_

The room was small and cosy, the wooden panelled walls and highly polished four-poster bed gleaming by the light of the flickering fire. Long green curtains concealed the night sky beyond the window and the embroidered quilt was looked soft and cheerful in contrast to the two small, plain grey bags dumped at its foot and the expression on the face of its occupant.

Felisha was shaken. That much was immediately obvious to Remus as he stepped inside the chamber and watched her pale face flickering by the firelight as she twisted her hands and paced almost unconsciously across the floorboards. He glanced back at Tonks as she pulled the door closed behind them to find that her expression was grim- she too was well aware that there was something seriously wrong here. Just what had occurred at the Institute that had put Felisha into such a state?

But even as Remus half-stepped forward to offer what comfort he could, the researcher span abruptly on her heel and turned to face them. "Remus, you won't believe…" But her voice trailed off instantly, her eyes focussing sharply on the pink-haired form of Tonks beside the door. Her expression froze.

"Who are you?" she exclaimed with undisguised alarm. Her eyes flicked to Remus. "Who is she?" she repeated sharply. "Where's Undine?"

It was so easy to forget that not everyone was aware of Tonks and her thousand faces. But how on earth to explain?

Luckily, Tonks saved him the trouble. "Wotcher Felisha," she greeted with a wry smile. "I guess I should have brought the clipboard and the glasses. But at least I don't look like such a bubble-brain."

Felisha's eyes widened. "_Undine?_"

The Auror visibly winced as she stepped forward to stand beside Remus. "Actually, the name's Tonks," she introduced herself with a shrug. "And this is the real me – well, _mostly_." She touched a finger to her bubble-gum hair with a smile. A moment later, the smile had turned wicked. "Just think of me as Remus' bodyguard."

Remus graced her with a long, hard stare. "How many times, I don't…"

"…_need protecting_," Tonks finished with a distinct smirk. "Of course you don't, you big, strong incarnation of testosterone, you. I'm just here because I can't resist your manly wiles."

Anxious as she was, even Felisha smiled at that. "Well, it was quite some disguise," she offered sincerely. "I'd never have guessed."

"Disguise is my speciality," Tonks replied without a trace of modesty. "Just don't ask me to sneak up on anyone."

Pleasant as it was to see Felisha looking less like death warmed up, Remus forced himself to focus back on business. Moving forward gently, he took a soft hold on Felisha's arm and guided her to the foot of the four poster bed, dropping down to sit beside her. Hooking her foot around a nearby stool, Tonks also took a seat beside the fire.

"Leish," he said softly, wrapping his hands around hers – her eyes met his at the use of the old nickname he had heard Lily and her other friends call her whilst at school. "Tell me what's wrong."

She took a deep breath. "Remus," she said, her voice a tremble. "There's a Dementor in the Institute."

Everything went cold. Faces flashed before his eyes; Dolph, Censermealia, Daniel, even Thor Wilding and the Pack, all there, all trapped, all far too convenient. How many of them had already lost their souls? How many were already in the thrall of the minions of Voldemort?

"How long?" Tonks' voice cut sharply into his horrified introspection, her tone implying that her thoughts reflected his. "How long has it been there?"

Felisha's hands flexed within Remus' comforting grasp. "A couple of hours at the most. I don't think I was supposed to know about it but my friend in security told me that he had to perform a high alert escort duty this evening and it just so happened that they were bringing it inside as I went downstairs to come here…" She trailed off, breathing deeply. "I thought it would just be another feral," she admitted in a hushed tone. "A part of me even wondered if it might be _you_, Remus. But it wasn't. It _definitely_ wasn't." She shook her head slowly. "I've encountered a Dementor before. But it was nothing like this. Oh yes, I felt cold, I found myself remembered my father's death and Lily's funeral and every bad thing in my world… But there was more too. There was something violent, something _potent_ about this Dementor. There were more than just bad memories here – every brutality, every fight, every nasty death I have seen in my work with werewolves came to the forefront of my mind. It was as though it was calling on those memories specifically. And when it had passed, I had never felt so sick, so naked, so _violated_ in all my life." Her eyes drilled into his. "Remus, I have never known anything so evil as that thing I saw today. And it's in the _Institute_."

Fighting down the raging ice that was running the length of his spine, Remus gently wrapped his arms around her shaking back as the dark, curly head of his old school mate accepted the comfort of his embrace and dropped against his shoulder. The warmth of her skin against his robe and the tickle of her hair against his neck provided a bastion against the chills. Her soft sigh implied that she was feeling much the same.

He was uncertain of quite how long they sat together before the voice of Tonks, sharpened by an unexpected edge, intruded upon them.

"Did anyone offer any kind of explanation?" The Auror asked abruptly. "Did you ask why they were bringing a Dementor into a Feral Institute?"

Felisha's head lifted – with a slight, unspoken reluctance, she pulled out of Remus' arms and sat up straight once more.

"I managed a quick word with Avin – my friend in security," she replied, her cheeks still slightly flushed. "He told me that he had heard Alexander Aylward talking with the man at the Ministry when they went to collect it, saying that under the circumstances it would be better off with us." She frowned. "From what he heard, he thinks it might be the Dementor that Kissed Abraham Kane."

Remus' head snapped up instantly. "What?"

Both Tonks and Felisha stared at him. "The Dementor that Kissed Kane," Felisha repeated slowly. "Why, does that matter?"

"It might." Remus' mind was racing towards an alarming possibility. "Felisha, has Rebekah ever told you her theory about the werewolf soul?"

The researcher was regarding him uncertainly. "A little," she answered cautiously. "But Rebekah's become very precious about her research lately. Why?"

Remus ignored the question. "How much do you know about Dementors?"

Felisha blinked. "Pretty much what was covered in NEWT Defence," she admitted. "I specialised in werewolves quite early on in my magi-zoology apprenticeship and so I never really got much further with anything else."

Remus sighed. "Have you ever heard of Mortimer Caldwell?"

"Are you going to answer any questions or just keep asking them?" The slightly frustrated intervention came from Tonks. After a quick glance in her direction however, Felisha did reply.

"He researched Dementors, which isn't a job I'd volunteer for. But I've never read his theories."

Sighing once more, Remus leaned back against the twisted support of the four-poster and gazed up into the canopy. "Caldwell hypothesised and later proved why it is that Dementors prefer human souls and emotions to that of any other prey," he said, his voice quiet and weary. "The reason they have no interest in animals is because an animal's emotion range and soul is less rich and diverse than that of a human, hence they do not make very good meals. A human feels greater happiness and suffers stronger woes, more complicated emotions and a deeper soul – it is like comparing a full five-course banquet with living off stale bread or gruel. A Dementor with nothing else to feed upon but animals would eventually weaken, sicken and possibly even die."

Tonks was frowning. "That's interesting enough, _Professor_. But I'm not sure I see the relevance here."

Remus smiled at her, a gesture she returned. "I'm getting to that. You see, Caldwell also theorised, although was unable to prove, that it could also work another way. Because there might also be a good reason that Dementors don't usually consume the souls of magical or dark creatures." His smile spread as he watched the young Auror. "What would happen if you ate the entire contents of Honeydukes in one sitting?" he asked suddenly.

"I'd be the size of an elephant with spots like dinner plates," Tonks replied promptly. Felisha smiled too as Remus chuckled.

"Apart from that," he said.

Tonks pondered for a moment. "I'd probably be sick," she said frankly. "Not to mention I'd be bouncing off the walls from the…_oh_." Her eyes lit up with realisation. "That's _it,_ isn't it? That's what's happened to the Dementor that drank Kane! It's got a _sugar rush_."

"Exactly." Remus was really rather proud of his analogy. "The souls of magical creatures are far, far potent than those of an ordinary human. Caldwell believed that consuming a magical soul would intoxicate a Dementor, damage it permanently, drive it wild. Consuming more than one would probably poison it fatally."

Tonks nodded. "Just like an overdose of sugar or salt."

"And that Dementor consumed a feral werewolf," Felisha injected suddenly. "Which would explain why my thoughts seemed to focus so much on brutality and violence as it passed me. Those are the thoughts that would most dominate a feral mind." She took a deep breath. "That's why it's been transferred to the Institute. We have a _feral Dementor _on our hands."

There was a long moment of silence. It was not a pretty prospect.

Remus eventually broke it. "The question is – what do we do about it?"

Tonks frowned once more. "What _can_ we do? We're banned from the Institute. Reb… Whoever's playing games in there can do as they chose."

"I may have a way for you to get in." Two heads swung instantly in Felisha's direction. She shrugged slightly. "In an emergency at least. But you may have to bear with me. It'll take a little time to arrange."

"Anything you can do…"

"As soon as you could would be…" Tonks and Remus spoke almost simultaneously, breaking off to glance at each other. Felisha smiled.

"I'm working on it," she reassured them. "Whenever I get the chance. The only problem would be letting you know when I've done it. Oh!" She slapped one hand against her knee. "That reminds me, did you get my letter all right?"

Remus smiled genuinely. "The letter was excellent. I was very glad to learn you weren't fired."

Felisha returned the smile. "I'm not sure _I_ was. But Rebekah surprised me. She didn't blame me in the slightest but found it very easy to think the worst of you. She did warn me to be less trusting of werewolves in the future, though."

"Charming," Tonks drawled. "But like Remus said, the letter was great. You disguised your purpose well for any unwelcome eyes."

Felisha beamed. "Good, I was worried about sending it. I can't prove anything, but I think someone has been reading my post. Certainly the letter I got from my mother last week had been opened and re-sealed." She pulled a face. "But therein lies the problem. I don't think us continuing to write is going to be possible without severe suspicion. But I don't see how else we can co-ordinate anything or even arrange to meet…"

"I've already thought of that." Remus dug into the pocket of his robe and pulled out the three silver sickles he had obtained from Hermione earlier. "We'll use these."

Tonks' cheeks creased. "Scotland to Yorkshire is a bit far to chuck a coin at someone, Remus."

Remus gave her a long, deliberate look. "They're Protean charmed," he stated slowly as she grinned at him cheekily. "If we need to meet, we simply charm a time and date to meet here into our own coin and the other two will grow hot and show the same. If one of us can't make it, we send an X followed by an alternative. We can even send short messages. What do you think?"

"I like it," Felisha took her coin at once. "However did you think of it?"

Remus smiled ruefully. "I didn't. It was a… _project _by one of my pupils. A very clever young lady."

Tonks flipped her coin into the air before snatching it and pocketing it. "This positively _reeks _of Hermione Granger," she said with a grin.

Remus grinned too. "Who else?"

"It's a relief to know we can stay in touch," Felisha slipped the coin into her robes. "It's so _isolated_ in the Institute these days. If something does happen, it's nice to know I've a secure link to the outside."

Remus looked over at her in concern. "Are things that bad?"

Felisha sighed deeply as she absently brushed her long dark curls out of her face. "Apart from that Dementor, things are no worse than they've been for the last few months," she admitted wearily. "I told you most of what you needed to know at the Institute and in the letter. It's hard to explain." She sighed again. "It's Rebekah mostly. I mean, she's never been the most sociable woman in the world, but when I started at the Institute, she was at least approachable. But recently, she's been like ice. She was always reasonably… not sympathetic, but responsible about her charges too but now – it's like she's just stopped caring. And it all started when Kane arrived." She met his eyes once more. "She _hates_ him, Remus," she said softly. "Even more than she hates you. And that hate has filled her completely."

Remus felt an uncomfortable prickle at this news. "What about the others?"

Felisha snorted. "Croll is Croll. And Aylward is Aylward. They never change. Neither does Zelia, really – she just drifts through life on the crest of her own private wave of positive energy. Dolph's been more cheerful lately, mostly because he's allowed out of the Resident's Level now and away from the others. And Cymone – well, she moans more than she used to but that could just be because her boss has turned so foul tempered. She's been left to do almost all the paperwork alone."

"That'd annoy me too," Tonks wrinkled her nose. "Felisha, who has access to Kane?"

Felisha raised an eyebrow. "Alone? Only Rebekah, Aylward and Croll have Alpha Clearance. I have Beta Clearance, which means I can go to Level Six unaccompanied but I can't get into Kane's observation chamber. That's Alpha only." She shrugged slightly. "But those three can take anyone they want in with them. I _used_ to be able to go to the Resident's Level alone too but after the incident with you, Rebekah's boosted that to Alpha Clearance too. Specifically, _her_ Alpha Clearance. No one but her goes in alone."

"What about the Dementor?" Remus leaned forward, resting his palms against his thighs. "Do you know where it was taken?"

"Level Six," Felisha replied promptly. "I asked Avin. I wanted to know where to _avoid_." She shuddered.

_Level Six… That's good_. Certainly the further away from the non-feral Residents the Dementor was the better. And if the Death Eater tried to feed it a feral – well… They'd probably have a dead Dementor on their hands. Rather grimly, Remus almost found himself hoping that they'd try it.

They talked for a few minutes more, discussing the staff and residents of the Institute and its operations before lapsing finally into a slow and awkward silence. From below, the raucous laughter of drinkers at Rosmerta's bar drifted up through the floorboards.

Felisha glanced over her shoulder, taking in the clock on the bedside table. "You'd probably better be going soon," she remarked uncertainly. "But before you do – Remus, could I have a word with you?" She shot an uncomfortable look at Tonks. "A _private _word?"

Remus couldn't help but notice that Tonks looked a little put out – but to her credit, she rose immediately to her feet, glancing at Remus with a wan and oddly subdued smile. "I'll…umm… be downstairs then," she said, jerking her thumb in the direction of the door. "When you want me."

Remus smiled at her. "I'll be along soon. But you don't have to wait if you don't want to."

Inexplicably, Tonks almost seemed to wince. "No, no," she said with almost deliberate casualness. "Bodyguard, remember? I have to see you safely back to Hogwarts or I'm not doing my job."

Remus gave her a mock scowl at the mention of protection. "If you must, then. But I _can _look after myself."

Tonks chuckled slightly. "Yeah, yeah, you're a big boy and all that. But I'm still going to walk you home. That's what friends do, isn't it?"

And then, with a flash of a half-hearted smile, she stepped outside and was gone.

Felisha was gazing at the closed door with an oddly thoughtful expression. "Is she all right?"

Remus followed her stare. "I think she's a bit annoyed with me. I rather put my foot in it just before we arrived." He shook himself. "But anyway – what did you want to talk to me about?"

Felisha sighed, gazing down at the quilt as though it was the most fascinating thing in the world. "The Prefect's Bathroom," she said softly.

Remus could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. "Oh."

Felisha smiled wanly. "I really hoped if we shook hands and started over that it wouldn't matter anymore. But I keep finding myself wanting to explain to you that I wasn't avoiding you because of _that_… what I saw… well, I mean I _was_ but…" She raised her hands to her flustered face. "Oh dear. I am making a mess of this. This is why I didn't want to talk about it."

Remus gently shook his head. "It's all right. I guessed that you guessed and it wasn't unexpected. I know you're a good person, Leish, and that's why you avoided me by acting embarrassed instead of disgusted but…"

"It _wasn't _an act!" Felisha flushed violently. "And that wasn't why…I mean…" Furiously, she crumpled her robes between her hands. "You know what? I'm just going to start at the beginning. I _knew_ you were a werewolf, Remus, long before it ever made the papers. I've known since school. Since that night when I saw…"

"My scar." Remus closed his eyes. "My bite." He'd known, deep down, that she'd seen, that she'd understood, that she'd put the scars and his absences together in her head – she was too much a Ravenclaw not to. That they had been teenagers – shy teenagers who had very much liked one another – had made it easier to pretend it was all about something physical but he'd known and she'd known and neither had wanted to face the other knowing. And so they'd blushed and run away until it became a habit that neither could break…

"I knew you'd seen it," he said softly. "I saw the look on your face when you saw me. You were embarrassed because I was…" He flushed slightly. "But there was more there too. For days, I was terrified that you were going to say something."

Felisha's head shot up indignantly. "I'd _never _have said anything!" she exclaimed hotly. "What do you think I am? I liked you Remus, I _still_ like you, _a lot_, and I'd never have done something like that." She sighed deeply. "It was just…"

Remus nodded quietly. "I understand."

"I'm not sure you do." Gently, Felisha reached forwards and took his hand in hers. "I did a lot of research in those few weeks, found out a lot of things about what it was to be a werewolf – in fact it was that investigation that got me interested in researching werewolves for a living. But knowing so much about how awful it was – I didn't know what to _say_ to you, Remus. I knew you were a good person – I certainly wasn't going to let some foolish illness change my opinion on that – but I knew you were proud too. You wouldn't want my sympathy and I just couldn't find a way to broach the subject that didn't sound like I pitied you somehow. And so it just seemed easier to…" She blushed prettily once more, "…to focus more thoughts on the _other_ aspect of what I'd seen and that way I'd just keep being embarrassed and not offend you at all. If you see what I mean."

The warmth of Remus' returning blush was filled with understanding. "I do. Unfortunately."

Felisha chuckled more easily as the rosy hue of her cheeks faded down. "Good. I'm glad that's finally said. After all, it isn't as though I have any reason to feel awkward anymore." She beamed as she rose to her feet, her hand still gripping his. "So you needn't worry," she declared heartily. "I'm determined to get over it. From now on, I certainly won't look at you and picture you _naked_."

And then Felisha froze. Following her gaze, Remus stared in horror.

There was a deathly silence.

For the door to Felisha's room was now open. And standing framed within the corridor beyond stood Nymphadora Tonks, Madam Rosmerta and a young couple that Remus recognised as two of his seventh year Ravenclaws.

And in that instant, he knew with a sinking heart that every single one of them had heard Felisha's last sentence.

The students were staring at their teacher with a kind of stunned glee. Rosmerta was smirking. Tonks blinked for a moment, but on catching sight of the look of horror that Remus was very certain was splashed across his face, he saw her chin start to tremble with desperately suppressed laughter.

_Oh Dear Gods. I'm definitely going to get a reputation out of this. And that's the last thing I need…_

Rosmerta recovered most quickly and blessedly decided to show a little tact. "This way, dears," she said firmly to the two open mouthed eighteen year olds. "Your room's a little further down."

Reluctantly, the couple allowed themselves to be ushered away. Tonks, however, leaned casually against the doorframe and met the stare of her red-faced friend with a carefully raised eyebrow.

"Naked?" she queried with frank wickedness.

Remus fixed her with the steeliest glare he could muster. "Did you want something?" he retorted irritably. "Or did you just come up here for the pleasure of humiliating me?"

Tonks waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, the humiliation was just a bonus." Her expression dropped abruptly into one that was rather more serious. "But mate, we _really_ need to go."

Something was wrong – that much Remus could instantly tell. Setting his shoulders, he turned to the red-faced Felisha and managed a wan smile.

"Well – good luck," he said bracingly.

"You too," she returned in a high-pitched voice with an awkward little nod.

Remus sighed. Just when they'd sorted things out…

But Tonks was tapping her foot in an anxious manner. With a final, slightly rueful smile, Remus turned and left Felisha alone in her room.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Tonks took a firm grasp on the sleeve of Remus' robe and turned him hurriedly away down the passageway.

"Why did you burst in like that?" Remus tried his very best to keep the irritation out of his voice. A moment later, he glanced around and realised he was being ushered towards the back end of the inn. "And why are we going in the opposite direction to the stairs?"

"Because we can't go back through the bar." Tapping her wand against a wooden panel, Tonks revealed a narrow, winding staircase that dropped away towards the Three Broomsticks yard. "Age before beauty," she gestured towards the hidden stairs. "Or at least, if you go first, I get a soft landing when the inevitable trip-up happens."

Embarrassed, confused and annoyed, Remus folded his arms and turned on the Auror instead. "And why are we sneaking out the back?" he asked with a calm of which he was quite proud.

Tonks regarded him slowly. "Because Falconer, that security guard we met on our first visit to the Institute, is sitting at the counter downstairs," she told him levelly. "And my suspicious mind refuses to accept that is a coincidence. So _come on_."

Remus obeyed. He was suddenly too tired to argue that even security guards were allowed out to have a drink.

"So." There was a strange note to Tonks' light-hearted tone. "Tell me all about being _naked_ in front of Felisha Hathaway. Would this be the infamous bathroom incident?"

Remus sniffed carefully. "None of your business," he replied stiffly.

"No," Tonks' voice was oddly quiet as she stumbled slightly on the step behind him, one small hand pressing suddenly against his back. "I don't suppose it is."

**A/N**: I apologise for the magi-babble - I didn't mean it to get so technical in this chapter but I just got involved in the analogy! I hope I haven't bored you all too much and I promise the action will kick off in not too many chapters time... ;)

As per usual I would like to offer many, many thanks to this weeks lovely reviewers – **Hiron Otsuki, Fred, Thee-Unknown-Factor, Lexi-Jade, merlinssister12, Howling-wolf, Kailin, Lucathia Rykatu, elka78, Adre, FireChildSlytherin5, sylthian, mercutio-rane, wcoastgril, Rel Fexive, Pickledishkiller, Author Gal, felixgirl, Gilpin, The Great RC, Mandalen **and** emmaD**. You are all nice, nice people. :)

I am quite heartlessly short of time at the moment so I'm afraid my responses shall be even more brief than usual. Apologies…

**A Few Responses**:

**Howling-wolf** – The rumour train is an evil beast indeed…;)

**Kailin **– I do imagine Remus as being a lovely, sensitive man, but I strongly suspect he would be quite oblivious to any woman who made "I like you" noises in his direction because he would assume that he was probably misreading any signals because no woman could _possibly_ be seriously interested in him ;). Plus, as he said, Tonks is his friend…;)

**Adre** - -cuddles plushie and muches chocolate- Bless you:)

**sylthian** – I've always imagined Rosmerta as quite playful and possibly a bit of a stirrer. Bless her. ;)

**wcoast girl** – I'm saying nothing –whistles- ;)

**Rel Fexive** – That line was a personal favourite…;)

**felixgirl** – Thank you! As a bit of a Hermione myself at school, I always like to give her a moment or two. :) And the family dinner is next chapter and as for the Bathroom Incident – I hope that worked okay for you and sorry if it was a bit of an anti-climax…;)

**Gilpin** – Indeed they do. Double Chocolate Velvet and Midnight Chocolate are on my list to try…;)

**emmaD** – I'm incorporating HBP elements when I can but I'm not going out of my way. I'm sticking to the story as intended. :)

Thanks to you all again and see you this time next week. :)


	17. An Occupational Hazard

**A/N:** I know I'm posting early today, but I think I might be busy tonight so I thought sooner was better than later. Besides, it_ is_ the long awaited family dinner…;)

_**17: An Occupational Hazard**_

The Monday after his meeting with Felisha at the Three Broomsticks, Remus Lupin went home. He felt he'd earned it.

Sunday had not been the easiest day of his life. A long, involved meeting in Dumbledore's office with Tonks, Kingsley, Mad-Eye Moody and the ever-charming Severus Snape had yielded little in the way of a definite plan of action regarding the news that a Dementor was already installed within the Institute. Kingsley's queries at the Ministry had revealed that sending the Dementor to the Institute had been a Ministry decision rather than a request from any Institute member but that did not alter the chill suspicion in Remus' heart that it was playing right into the hands of their hidden Death Eater. He knew that Felisha would alert them as soon as she could if the situation in her place of work suffered any profound change but the question was would that already be too late?

But they could do nothing more. Kingsley's diffident suggestion to his superiors that a search of the Institute might be wise had been shot down in flames – no one wanted to interfere with Dolores Umbridge's favourite project. Access to the Institute was severely restricted, even for a luminary such as Dumbledore and its security was unsurpassed; without inside help – namely Felisha's as yet unrevealed emergency plan – they were simply unable to act. It was frustrating and worrying to be so helpless in the face of such a threat but it was also unavoidable.

And Snape's investigations had also yielded nothing. To his palpable annoyance, whatever plans were afoot within the Institute were clearly highly confidential knowledge – none of his Death Eater contacts had heard a thing. This was, he had concluded with a sneer, probably a one or two man project and the one or two involved were either not present or not talking. He did mention however, that it had been some while since he had encountered Bellatrix Lestrange.

And that, unfortunately, had been that. Dumbledore had drunk in the faces of his fellow Order members and quietly suggested to them all that the best they could do for now was to go about their business and wait. They had all reacted in their own ways – Severus had curled his lip, Mad-Eye had growled, Kingsley had frowned, Tonks had huffed and Remus had sighed – but none had argued and the meeting had rather sullenly broken up.

Remus had intended to remain at Hogwarts for the remaining week of the Easter holidays, to insure he was on hand should something untoward occur, but as he made his way back down to his office, he had encounter three Ravenclaws from his NEWT level class gossiping together in the corridor. And when they had registered his approach, as one, they turned and smirked at him.

Remus had sighed. Substantially.

Bloody Rosmerta. And bloody open doors…

He had hoped to have a quiet word with the two Ravenclaws from the Three Broomsticks before word got around, hoping beyond hope that they might not have returned to the school yet from their own interlude in Hogsmeade. But apparently he was far too late. The grapevine was already spreading.

By the afternoon, the looks were becoming more commonplace. And by that evening's dinner, it seemed almost as though the smirks of the entire student body were upon him. At that point, Remus had abandoned his earlier plans, hurried up to the Owlery and plaintively contacted his father to request sanctuary.

Reynard had, with only a few minor jokes of his own, welcomed him with open arms.

The remote student-and-Institute-less quiet of Winter Hollow proved to be exactly what Remus needed. He had relaxed gently back into life at home, helping in the garden and feeding the menagerie, reading books and writing papers, walking the woods and mountains and talking and laughing with his father. But as the week passed and Remus unwound, he could not help but notice that Reynard's level of tension was rising almost in proportion. And there was no need to ask why.

For the postponed family dinner was looming that Sunday. And every day was one day closer.

And so it was that by the time Remus and Reynard shook off their apparition on Sunday morning to stare over at the grey stone walls of the Lupin family home, the elder Lupin was wound up tighter than a bowstring.

Remus blinked in the bright sunlight of the spring day as he glanced up and down the narrow, flowery lane on which they had materialised before shifting his gaze to the ornately curved iron gates that lay before them, marking the boundary of the anti-apparition wards around the grounds. Beyond, a gravelled drive dropped away, flanked by well-maintained lawns and neatly trimmed meadow before rising once more to a blocky but charming house of thick grey stone with broad windows that gazed out in all directions across the curl of hills that surrounded its snug resting place. A sigh, carved neatly out of slate and set into the gatepost announced its name as _Greystones_.

Reynard was also staring at the house. His hands closed around his stick almost reflexively.

Glancing at his father's white pallor, Remus placed a gentle hand against his distinctly taut shoulder and squeezed softly.

"Dad, relax," he said kindly. "It'll be fine. At least you've met most of them before. If I'm not nervous, why should you be?"

Reynard's eyes flicked towards his son. "I don't know how you can be so calm," he replied with a wan smile. "Are you sure your mother didn't slip you some kind of sedative when you were a baby?"

Remus smiled in return. "I'm afraid I couldn't tell you that." His smile wavered slightly. "I've had quite enough to be nervous about lately," he added quietly. "And besides, I tend to go into most social gatherings these days expecting to be disliked. That way if I'm not, it's a pleasant surprise."

Reynard's smile turned somewhat sad. "You shouldn't have to."

Remus shrugged. "I know. But that's just the way of the world."

"Uncle Rey!"

The heartily hail made both Lupin men jump. Turning sharply, Remus' gaze fixed upon the smiling young man who was strolling down the lane towards them. He was slightly shorter than Remus, his face broad, freckled and friendly, his skin well tanned and his lanky Lupin frame filled out by honed muscle. His brown hair, ruffled jovially by the breeze, carried hints of red as it glinted in the sun.

His quick stride brought him to their side in moments. "Glad you made it!" he exclaimed cheerfully, catching Reynard's hand and giving it a firm shake – Reynard's nervous smile melted beneath the assault of overwhelming good nature. "I was worried after Ben went and chucked us all in it last weekend that you wouldn't make it and it would hardly have been much of a dinner without the guests of honour!"

Reynard laughed. "Nice to see you too, Rufus."

The young man – Rufus - released his hand with a grin and turned his hazel eyes abruptly onto Remus.

"And this must be cousin Remus!" he exclaimed, thrusting out his hand once more – unable to keep himself from smiling, Remus accepted it. "I'm Rufus Lupin, youngest son, black sheep and general source of familial amusement and despair. Amongst the charges you are likely to hear levelled in my direction today are that I am not yet married, I live in a flat in London in spite of offers to remain at home and I that abandoned a promising career in magi-zoology to train as an exterminator. And of course, the great unforgiven – I was the only member of my family not sorted into to Ravenclaw."

Slightly bemused, Remus glanced at his father whose shoulder were now shaking not with tension but suppressed amusement – it was clear that he had received a similar assault of information on his first encounter with Rufus.

"Nice to meet you," he replied. "I am indeed Remus."

Rufus must have spotted his expression. "Don't worry," he said with a grin. "I just like to get all that stuff out of the way. It saves time and explanations later. And I don't expect you to reciprocate."

Remus echoed his smile. "Well in that case I won't bother to tell you that I am also single, I vary between living at home with my father and at Hogwarts, where I am a professor and that I am also one of the great unforgiven who were not in Ravenclaw."

Rufus laughed out loud. "Don't tell me. Another of Minerva's minions?"

A picture of the expression on Minerva McGonagall's face at hearing her house so described almost cracked Remus' aura of calm. Stifling laughter, he grinned.

"I was a prefect," he pointed out with mock offence. "Hardly a _minion_."

"Sell-out." Rufus' eyes were twinkling. "But never mind. If you're nice to me, I might let you join me in that special corner of disappointment that dad reserves for any Lupin sorted into Gryffindor."

Remus started to smile but then a glimpse of his father's face forced his good humour into abrupt retreat. He remembered, with a start, that Rolphe Lupin would have good reason for worrying about a Gryffindor son considering that the last member of his family to reach that house, his and Reynard's sister Rhea, had come to an unfortunate end to say the least.

_Definitely_ time to change the subject.

"Perhaps we'd better head inside?" he deflected diplomatically, gesturing towards the gates. "I wouldn't want to cement that disappointment further by being late."

"No need to fret on that score." Rufus waved a dismissive hand, but he did move in the direction of the driveway. Exchanging a glance that told Remus eloquently that his father had understood and appreciated his deflection, his fellow Lupins followed. Rufus was smiling once more as he pushed open the gate and ushered his two relatives inside – it appeared to be his default state of being. "Trust me, we won't be the last," he continued at once. "Ruth and Edmund and their little hoard live with mum and dad so she's always about and I think Ro and her brood have been staying over Easter. But Ben and Beks are always _busy-busy_ with this, that or the other so whatever time I saunter in, they always show up later. So I reckon we're safe for now."

The walk down the long drive was necessarily slow due to Reynard's incapacity but Rufus used the opportunity to fill the air with friendly chatter about soon to be encountered relatives – the likely distraction of his sister Rowanne due to the necessity of watching over a four month old son and two year old daughter, the probability of boredom in any conversation with his brother Ben due to his tendency to talk about little but twig capacity and streamline finish in his work as a designer of broomsticks, the futility of trying to discuss work with his sister Beks who always avoided the subject in company and that his mother Thalia could and would gush for hours on any subject if you were foolish enough to be cornered by her. By the time they reached the front steps of the house, Remus had begun to feel as though he had known these people all his life.

It was an odd sensation. He wasn't used to having cousins that didn't want him dead.

"So in conclusion," Rufus declared expansively as they paused outside the wooden front door of Greystones house. "If you want a dull conversation, talk to Ben. If you want no conversation, talk to Beks. If you want a distracted conversation, talk to Ro. If you want polite conversation, talk to my dad. If you want a conversation where you don't need to speak at all, talk to my mother. If you want a strange conversation, take your pick from the kids. But if you want a sane conversation, you'll have to come to Ruth or me. And that's all you need to know."

Remus couldn't help himself. "No other tips? Only that was hardly much to go on."

Rufus blinked for a moment, before bursting into sudden laughter. "You'll pass," he said, still chuckling. "Considering you're a werewolf, I was half-expecting you to be a bit of a misery. It's nice to be wrong."

The sudden, offhand mention of his condition caught Remus rather off-guard. Reynard's head also snapped up but Rufus, glancing between them, did nothing more than shrug.

"You weren't expecting me to mention that, were you?" he remarked, his voice slightly more serious than Remus had come to expect. "But don't worry yourself about it. I can't speak for the others, but I can tell you it doesn't bother me." He grinned slightly. "As long as you don't start vying for my black sheep position anyway. I like being the odd one out. It means I can do as I please and no one acts horrified or surprised."

Remus couldn't help but smile. "You sound like an old friend of mine. He used to say something very similar."

Rufus smiled more gently in return. "Then I'm even more sure than you and I are going to get along." He glanced around, his eyes flicking up towards the brilliant blue sky, over the colourful mass of flowers swaying gently in the meadow breeze, towards a lark ascending as it trilled out its glorious song.

"Take a deep breath," he said with a roll of his eyes. "And drink in this lovely peace and quiet. Because once I open that door, it's easy to forget it exists. Brace yourselves."

And then, fumbling with his key, he opened the door.

And then there was _noise_.

A small battalion of children hurtled through the neatly panelled hallway that opened out before them, screaming and laughing as they ran from one doorway into another as they pursued a wildly barking dog that almost ploughed down a distracted looking little house elf that was hurrying into a nearby room with a tray of drinks, hitching up its neat little tea towel as it scurried out of the path of danger. From somewhere above, the long plaintive wail of a baby echoed through the house, a counterpoint to the hiss and steam of cauldrons on a fire that drifted from the open doorway at the hallway's head, accompanied by the strains of a woman's voice chattering in constant commentary to whatever it was she was doing. In the distance, something tumbled with a crash – a man's voice raised itself in remonstration at this unseen mishap and suddenly the cries of a second child had joined the first; clearly, being told off was reason enough to add to the din. Plaintive and drowned out, somewhere, peaceful music was playing.

Remus stared. Rufus laughed. Reynard grinned.

"You know, I didn't think it could get much louder than last time," the elder Lupin remarked almost cheerfully. "I'm impressed."

Rufus shrugged easily. "Trust me, for a full family gathering, this is a _quiet _day. Come on, let's brave the wilds and see who we can find. And don't worry if you trip over Ruffles – the dog," he added at Remus' slight expression of bemusement. "You aren't a true blooded member of the Lupin family until you've had at least one Ruffles related injury."

As he pulled the door closed behind them and followed Rufus and his father into the corridor, Remus had to admit that the chaos before him was not precisely what he had been expecting. Everything he had ever heard about his father's brother Rolphe had implied he was a fairly staid and serious man and on coming to his home, Remus had to admit he had rather anticipated a staid and serious gathering. Faced as he was with rushing children, barking dogs and an overwhelming cacophony of family that was almost Weasley-ish in nature, he found himself to be pleasantly taken aback and ever so slightly daunted.

Ahead, Rufus had cupped his hands over his mouth with a wink.

"Halloooo!" he cried. "Can anybody hear me out there?"

A head popped out of the nearest doorway on the right. It belonged to a vividly redheaded woman perhaps a couple of years Remus' senior who smiled broadly at the sight of Rufus and hurried at once to his side.

"Rufus!" she exclaimed, catching him in a brief but sincere embrace. "You didn't bring Sally?"

Rufus shrugged slightly. "We broke up."

The woman's face fell into weary resignation. "_Again_? Honestly, if you and she stay together for more than a month at a time, I shall have to call the Prophet. And – oh!" Her gaze caught on Reynard as her face broke into a brilliant smile. "Hello Reynard."

"Ruth." Smiling too, Reynard offered his hand but Ruth batted it aside almost fondly as she stepped forward and also engulfed him in a hug. To judge by the expression on his father's face, Reynard had been caught, though not unpleasantly, by surprise.

"We've met more than once and we're family," Ruth informed him with mock sternness as she withdrew, smiling. "I'm afraid that puts you on my hugging rota."

Rufus smirked. "My condolences."

Ruth smacked him playfully on the arm. "Watch it, little brother. I still know how to make you suffer." Her eyes switched to Remus and she smiled again. "And you must be Remus. A pleasure to meet you. I'm Ruth Wychwood, Rolphe's eldest daughter." She offered her hand. "I'll let you off the hug because we've never met before and I tend to avoid hugging strangers. But next time, there shall be no escape."

"_Run while you can_," Rufus offered in a stage whisper as Remus took her hand and shook it with a smile. Ruth shot her younger brother another mock glare.

"One more like that and I'll tell Rowanne you offered to watch the baby," she informed him. "I know how much you love changing nappies and wiping up vomit."

Rufus raised his hands in mock surrender. "All right, spare me. I'd better go and register my presence with the parents. May I leave our guests in your capable hands?"

"You may. Now run along." Rufus obeyed with a playful wave as Ruth turned to Reynard and Remus. "And if you two would care to follow me?"

They did, moving into the room from which Ruth had emerged. It was fairly substantial in size, also panelled in wood, with a large ornate fireplace and a variety of chairs, rugs and tables scattered around the hardwood floor. A piano, covered in family photos, stood in one corner, quietly playing Satie's_ Gymnopedies_ unaided by human hand and several portraits and pictures were scattered around the walls. Several of the occupants regarded the new arrivals carefully.

"Reynard Lupin, back again!" One, an old man in a curly wig and black frock coat proclaimed expansively. "Welcome, my boy! No word for years and then two visits in one month! So good to see you!"

Reynard smiled. "Hello, Roderick," he greeted cheerfully, as he settled himself into a green armchair by the fire, just beneath the portrait that had spoken. "How's my favourite Great-Great Grandfather?"

Remus half-made to join him but Ruth caught his arm and guided him quietly to one side. "Let them talk," she said softly. "Roderick has been asking after Reynard for as long as I can remember – well before I even knew who he was. I think he was a bit of a favourite. Besides…" They came to a standstill beside the gently self-playing piano, "I was hoping for a quiet word with you."

"With me?" Remus made absolutely certain that no hint of the flash of coldness that ran the length of his spine appeared on his face at these words. "Certainly. What about?"

Ruth said nothing for a moment. Her eyes drifted to the piano top. Remus followed her gaze.

It was a photograph, black and white, of five smiling people on the lawn in front of Greystones, two parents and three children, one boy and two girls. It looked somewhat over thirty years old. The eldest girl was unmistakably Ruth.

The chill deepened. "Ah."

Ruth nodded quietly. "You know about what happened to my brother Randolph and my mother then?"

Remus returned the nod. "I know they were murdered by the same werewolf that bit me."

His cousin sighed deeply. "It means very little to Reuben, Rowanne and Rufus. Not to say they are insensitive to it, but she was not their mother and they were born years after Randolph died. They know they existed but they do not mourn them the way we who knew them do." She stared at the picture again for a moment. "I do not blame you in any way," she continued softly. "Why should I? You were a victim of Kane yourself after all. But my father does and always has felt their loss more keenly than even my sister and I. It took a great deal for him to ask you here today – if my nephew hadn't given you such a stunningly positive endorsement, I doubt he would have agreed at all. But he will be awkward with you – not out of blame, not particularly even out of prejudice, but because you are a living, breathing reminder of what happened to two people he loved dearly. And that you lived and they did not still hurts him." She met his eyes almost pleadingly. "Please bear that in mind."

Remus bowed his head. "Of course. I understand completely." He swallowed hard before adding, "Kane killed my mother too. Nearly five years ago."

Ruth's eyes widened. "I didn't know that."

Remus sighed deeply. "Not many people do. I only learned myself a few months ago."

Ruth released a long, slow breath as her gaze became a scrutiny. "Were you angry?" she asked softly.

Remus' mind flashed back to the Howling, to the raging fury that had kindled in his chest as Kane taunted him about killing Diana Lupin, to the surge of gold he now knew had touched his eyes.

"Furious," he replied.

His cousin regarded him uncertainly. "Then perhaps you can understand that my sister…"

"What do you mean they're _already here_? Honestly, Rufus Lupin, why didn't you say that _first_?" The echoing cry bounced the length and breadth of the house, cutting though even the distant, chaotic sounds of many children at play. "Rolphe! Reuben! Rowanne! They're here already, get yourselves downstairs!"

Looking rather frazzled, Rufus stumbled abruptly through the doorway. "Duck and cover," he warned breathlessly. "Mum knows you've arrived and you're about to be inundated. Believe it or not, even Ben got here before me. We're only waiting for Beks."

Ruth's head snapped up. "Rufus, don't call her that. You know she hates it and one of these days she'll snap and have your head on a spike before you can say acromantula."

Rufus opened his mouth, presumably in some cheeky retort, but the words were stayed as he was bustled unceremoniously out of the way by a hoard of galloping children and a very lively Scottie dog who flung themselves bright eyed into the room to get a look at the new arrivals. A moment later they were followed by a thin woman of perhaps nearing sixty, wrapped in long green, flapping robes and with her greying brown hair tied back into a slightly fraying bun. Her eyes fixed on Reynard and she smiled.

"Reynard, dear, how lovely to see you again," she declared expansively, widening her arms as she swept down upon him – Reynard barely managed to pull himself to his feet before he was engulfed in another embrace. "You've been well I hope? Good, good!" Reynard opened his mouth, presumably in an effort to greet her but the woman had already wheeled and swept in the direction of his son.

"And this must be Remus!" she exclaimed. This time, Remus was not spared the perils of hugging as bony arms engulfed him too. "I'm Thalia Lupin, dear, Rolphe's wife," she declared as she released him and stepped back. "And goodness, don't you look like your father! There's no mistaking your lineage, dear, that's for sure! And you work at Hogwarts? That must be ever so rewarding, teaching all those children, though I know there was that nasty incident at Christmas, but probably best not to discuss that in front of the little ones, wouldn't you say?"

Remus half managed to attempt a response, but the tide of conversation flowing from Thalia's lips had already swept on past. He had to marvel at the accuracy of Rufus' earlier description – his mother could indeed conduct an entire conversation by herself. "I was worried your duties at Hogwarts might keep you away but of course we're in the Easter holidays, so we are blessed with your company after all! I've done beef, dear, I hope you like it, Reynard said you wouldn't mind but I do like to be sure. Oh and don't mind Ruffles, dear, he's harmless, wouldn't hurt a fly, would you boy?"

For indeed, the family dog was tugging playfully at the hem of his robes, with an expression of mindless glee, his tail wagging like a twig in a hurricane. His little eyes gleamed brightly with the effort. Rather tentatively, Remus attempted to push him away. He had no real objections to dogs, but years of poverty had taught him not to risk a good pair of robes to canine teeth.

Ruth rolled her eyes slightly. "Oh that won't do. Don't be gentle with him, he isn't with us."

"Oh no, he's a right little scamp is our Ruffles!" Thalia beamed as Ruth, aided by a little girl of perhaps nine or ten that Remus guessed belonged to her, reached down and prized Ruffles away from the hem of the visitor's clothing. A glance in the direction of the door told Remus that the room was filling up with unfamiliar faces but he barely had time to take them in before he was distracted by the double assault of Thalia's conversation and Ruffles renewed persistence in his game of tug-the-robe and was dragged back under by the inexorable Lupin tide.

To Remus, family and home had always been a quiet place, a refuge, filled with love and jokes and laughter, but they had been only three, now reduced to two, not enough to fill even such a small cottage as Winter Hollow. Before the Weasleys, he had never really known how chaotic and boisterous a large family could be and he had watched their antics from the sidelines with quiet amusement, never dreaming for a moment that he would find himself at the centre of such a scene of madness with relatives of his own. It was a shock, exhilarating, terrifying. It was _amazing._

"Mum, _mum_!" Remus registered Ruth's voice, realising as she spoke that Thalia had clearly been a part of the family long enough to gain the honorific title of mother from Rolphe's older daughters. "You haven't let the poor man say a word! And besides…" Her voice dropped to a more serious tone. "I think dad has something to say."

The silence fell instantly, startlingly so after the racket of moments before. Even the piano fell still.

Remus looked up.

Standing in the centre of the room, Rolphe Lupin had just released his brother's hand. That they were brothers was again unmistakable – although Rolphe was the shorter, his face broader, his belly larger, the resemblance was plain to see. His hair was best described as white streaked with brown more than brown streaked with white and his hazel eyes were deep and fixed intensely on Remus. At his side, Reynard was watching his brother with a mixture of uncertainty and nervousness.

"You're Remus." The words, when they came, were low and soft.

Remus nodded gently. "I am."

Rolphe flashed a brief, wan smile. "Of course you are," he muttered almost to himself. "You're the spitting image of Rey at that age, who else would you be?" He shook himself slightly. "You're not quite what I expected," he admitted almost uncertainly. "But in a good way. So." He took a deep breath. "I wish also to take this chance to thank you for what you have done for this family." The words came with difficulty, but Remus could tell it was not resentment but deep emotion that weighed his uncle's tongue. "You brought the man who killed my wife and son to face justice and in doing so you also probably saved my grandson's life. And so, whatever I may think of…" he hesitated and drew in another gulp of air, "..._your kind_, you will always be welcomed here. Welcome to Greystones and into my home. I hope you will come to consider it a home of yours as well."

And then, his jaw fixed and shoulders strained, Rolphe Lupin stepped forward and offered his hand.

Remus accepted it.

Mindful of what a momentous step this must be for a man who had loathed werewolves almost all of his life, Remus almost felt as though there should have been a round of applause or a crack of thunder. But the room and the world stayed respectfully silent.

But Reynard was smiling. That Remus could see clearly.

"So," Rolphe's shoulders relaxed a little as he released his hand and stepped back. "While my lovely wife and our house elf finish preparing our dinner, why don't I introduce you to everyone?"

And he did. In a positive torrent of names and faces, Remus was presented to Ruth's husband Edmund and their three children, Reuben Lupin the broomstick designer and his wife and sons, and the pale and rather frazzled looking Rowanne who gripped a lively toddler by one hand and held a young and once more squalling baby in the other. Her husband, she informed them with a certain frustration, worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports and was currently at a Quidditch conference in Germany. Rufus insisted on being introduced again, to his father's fond irritation, before depositing himself in the midst of a mass of children and dog to join in whatever strange game they were playing.

"My other daughter sent a message to say she'd been delayed at work," Rolphe informed him apologetically when the meet and greet was done. "But she and her family should be here soon… in fact, here they are now!"

And indeed, Ruffles had leapt to his feet with a mad bark as the sound of the front door opening and voices in the hall drifted through. A young girl of perhaps ten or eleven flung herself through the doorway and leapt onto Rolphe with a cry of "Grandad!" and a moment later, she was followed by…

For Remus, everything stopped.

And then, his stomach plunged.

_Oh no. Oh no, no, no, it can't be_…

"Professor Lupin!"

Anthony Goldstein hurried over to where his teacher was standing, stock-still and stunned in the centre of the room.

"Can you believe it?" he exclaimed cheerfully. "I mean, I knew when you first came to Hogwarts that mum's maiden name was Lupin but since no one ever mentioned you, I'd always assumed it was a coincidence until granddad told me you were his brother's son! And mum knew as well! I can't believe she never said anything even after I told her you were my favourite teacher." He paused, squinting suddenly at his professor's pale face. "Professor Lupin, are you all right?"

Swallowing hard, Remus found his voice. "Your…_mother_?" he managed hoarsely.

"Yes _Professor_," a voice drawled from the hallway. "His mother. Your _cousin._"

Remus looked up. But he already knew what he would find.

For standing cross-armed in the doorway and wearing her profoundest look of disdain, was none other than Rebekah Goldstein.

**A/N**: Please don't hit me. ;)

I do know that several of my reviewers out there did indeed spot this coming and I groaned in horror at every one of your reviews! ;) But over-clever gits though you may be, I must congratulate you…;)

In my original ideas for this story, which came upon me whilst writing the last ten chapters or so of Oblivious, it was not my intention to saddle poor Remus with yet another surprise cousin. But I had for a while been searching for a way to work Reynard into the story somehow, even if it was just a kind of cameo, because I had grown so fond of him in the writing of Oblivious, I wanted to give him something to do in Imperius too. And as I thought about it, I came up with the idea of reconciling him with his estranged brother and his family, which of course would bring Remus along for the ride. And thus, I wrote the seed for this idea into the concluding chapters of Oblivious and its epilogue.

The trouble was, it had absolutely nothing to do with my major plot at all. And I didn't like the idea of a subplot of absolutely no relevance that was inserted just to satisfy a personal whim. I'm strange like that… ;)

That was when it occurred to me that Rebekah Goldstein, Rolphe Lupin's second daughter, might serve rather well in the role of the Head of the Institute, one that I had yet to really flesh out beyond a few plot points and deeds. Relevance! Oh how I cheered! ;) It did occur to me that my readers might groan rather and pelt me with rotten fruit for inflicting poor Remus with another hostile relative but I considered it a price worth paying. Besides, I made the rest of his newfound family nice to make up for it! So please don't hurt me too much…;)

Oh, and for those of you (including my poor beta) who were about confused by the masses of Lupins above, here is a potted summary of Rolphe's family. :)

Rolphe Lupin's Descendants 

**Rolphe Lupin**

**Born **1929

**Married -1** 1952 _Megara Carrington b.1925 died 1962 (killed by Kane)_

**Married -2** 1965 _Thalia Treville b.1939_

**1 - Randolph Lupin** b.1953 d.1962 (killed by Kane)

**1 - Ruth Lupin **b.1955 m.1985 _Edmund Wychwood_

Children 

Elinor b.1988

Tobias b.1990

Marion b.1992

**1 - Rebekah Lupin** b.1957 m.1978 _Felix Goldstein_

Children 

Anthony b.1980

Julia b.1987

**2 - Reuben Lupin **b.1966 m.1985 _Ariadne Russett_

Children 

Simeon b.1987

Benjamin b. 1989

**2 -Rowanne Lupin** b.1970 m.1993 _Perseus Hazell_

Children

Zara b.1994

Rowan b.1996

**2 - Rufus Lupin **b 1973

And of course:

Many thanks as per usual to my lovely reviewers **elka78, Rel Fexive, The Great RC, Thee Unknown Factor, Hawkgal, Camilinha, Belle, emmaD, Pickledishkiller, Miracle, Howling-wolf, Dragongirl19, Kailin, Liv Naravul, Takarameri, Analia's Broom, Gilpin, D'Arean, Adre, aurelie1, mercutio-rane, sylthian **and** Silver Mo0n 19**. You are all nice, nice people. :)

**Hawkgal** – You've a few chapters to wait for a Tonks POV yet but it is coming…:)

**Camilinha** - I'm saying nothing on the shipping front –whistles- ;)

**emmaD** – I'm glad the theories are interesting to you – I always worry I'm boring people with my magi-babble! And I'm glad the Bathroom Incident worked too. :)

**Miracle **– I'm glad you found me! The trouble with Mugglenet is that it's so slow to post the chapters, things there tend to get a little behind. I hope you're caught up and you enjoy it:)

**Dragongirl19 **– It wasn't that many – only four. Unfortunately, that includes a barmaid and two students…;)

**Kailin** – Felisha has a legitimate reason to be there that all the Institute knew about. What she didn't have was a legitimate reason to be seen with Remus…;)

**Liv Naravul** – The handwriting is _appalling_. I fear for Britain's youth…;)

**Takarameri** – I am a bit of a perfectionist on the spelling/grammer front so I'm glad it makes a difference to you! I'm pleased you're enjoying it:)

**Gilpin** – I'm glad you liked it! I was worried people would find this chapter dull:)

**D'Arean** – Gossip will occur but I don't know how much time I'll be able to devote to it. There will be second hand reports though…;)

**Adre** – You've peaked my curiosity! But I'm nice, I shan't ask…;)

**sylthian **– I'm glad it all made sense:)

**mercutio-rane** – I like the little extra bits too. They are fun to write. :)

**Silver Mo0n 19** – Have you come here from FA? I think I've seen you review there. :) I know it's more behind there – it's too slow to post to keep up. I'm very glad you enjoyed it:)

As usual, your reviews light up my life! Please keep lighting:)


	18. Cousins

_**18: Cousins**_

_Beks. Rebekah._

_Oh Merlin_…

Remus couldn't help but feel that his pleasure in having cousins that didn't want him dead had been sadly premature.

Rebekah's eyes were twin blocks of ice as she gazed at the sight of a man she hated standing in the midst of her family home but she said nothing more, merely taking her moment to glower before turning to her father with a thin lipped smile.

"Hello daddy," she greeted with a warmth that was, for Remus, utterly unfamiliar from her. "How's your back?"

"Much better," Rolphe replied as he and his daughter shared a brief embrace. A slight hint of reproach glimmered in his eyes. "Although if you'd been to see me since Christmas, you'd know that."

Rebekah sighed. "Daddy, you know that I'm busy at work – I wouldn't even have left today if it hadn't been so important to you. I'm sorry but it just can't be helped. And I'm here now."

Rolphe made a noncommittal noise. "I suppose. But I do miss you, dear. Where's Felix?"

"Putting our broomsticks away." Rebekah straightened her pale blue robes – it took Remus a moment to adjust to the sight of her out of her Institute work clothes. "He'll be here shortly."

Rolphe smiled more convincingly. "Then I have enough time to introduce you." Taking Rebekah by the arm, he led her away to where Reynard was watching with a slightly awkward expression. A moment later, Rolphe was ushering them to shake hands. Rebekah, Remus noted, was distinctly reluctant as a stilted conversation ensued.

_Ah. So it's not just me then. And this isn't just about your son after all_.

A gentle tap on his shoulder startled him from his reverie. He turned to find Ruth gazing at him with knitted brows.

"You two know each other," she stated without preamble. "And you don't get on. I saw that look you exchanged if no one else did. And I know my sister."

Remus gave a long sigh. "Yes, we've met," he admitted wearily. "I… assisted her with some research recently. And to say we did not get on is rather an understatement."

Ruth slowly closed her eyes. "Damn," she muttered, soft but heartfelt. "I tried to warn you earlier but I had no idea the damage had been done. Remus, when my mother and brother died, I was just old enough to remember and to understand, that what happened was nobody's fault but Kane's. But Rebekah was only five years old and all her views on that dreadful time have come from what my father told her. And as you must know from their long estrangement, my father blamed yours for what happened for many years. He blamed him from provoking Kane's anger against his family by killing his mate. He blamed you for living when Randolph died. And those views became my sister's too. And although over time, dad came to terms with what happened and let his bitterness go, Rebekah had never known anything else but what she had been told as a child."

The picture of Rebekah Goldstein and her motives in Remus' mind was becoming a great deal clearer. Her instant hatred of him, her resentment and the reasons behind it were now so obvious. He had lived when her brother had died. He was the son of the man her father had blamed for her mother's death. And then to cap it all, _her_ son came close to suffering her mother and brother's fate at the teeth of a werewolf bitten by the very creature who had robbed away half of her family. Of _course _she would hate him.

It was an irrational hate, true enough, unjustified in part. But when had hatred ever been rational?

He sighed again, deeply. "It was rather hate at first sight. I believed until now it was because she blamed me for endangering her son."

"Oh she does," Ruth pulled a face. "She ranted like a champion about it all through Christmas. But I take it she never mentioned you were her cousin?"

"_No_."

"Well, she definitely knew. We both knew. We knew that your father had helped kill Kane's mate after their murderous rampage. And we knew that Kane was the son of the werewolf that killed dad's sister. But that still doesn't mean that I think you should be…"

"Wait." Something Ruth had said registered sharply in Remus' brain. "What was that?"

Ruth frowned and then suddenly her eyes widened. "You did know, didn't you?" she breathed in sudden alarm. "You did know that Kane's father abducted and killed our fathers' sister after she tried to help him?"

_Uh-oh_. _So that's all they've been told?_ But was that all Rebekah knew? Not for the first time that day, a cold chill was settling down Remus' spine. Until now, it had not crossed his mind. But of course, if Rebekah was his cousin, she was also _Kane's _as well.

And he had killed her mother and brother. The fact clunked into place. She _knew _that. She had custody and _complete control_ of her family's murderer.

_She hates him, Remus_. Felisha's words. _Even more than she hates you. And that hate has filled her completely_.

No wonder Kane's cell was so squalid. No wonder she had no concerns about sedating him and using the Imperius curse. And no wonder she stared at him with such hatred and fear in her eyes.

But did she know about their shared blood? Did she know that Abraham Kane was Abel Isaacs, Rhea Lupin's son?

His mind flashed back a few weeks in time, to the day he and Rebekah had first entered Kane's cell. He had used the name Abel. And Kane, seeing Reynard's face, had called him _uncle_.

How much effort would it have taken for the Head of the Feral Institute to delve that bit deeper? A quick word to Dolores Umbridge and he was sure that she would have had Adam Isaacs' Registry File and Abel Isaacs' adoption record on her desk. And either or both would certainly have stated the belief that Rhea Lupin had been the mother of the boy-who-would-become-Kane.

And what would she think to find not one but _two_ despised werewolves in the family, werewolves that knew of their bonds by blood as well as bite? And what would she _do_ if she knew? Who would she _tell_?

"Remus?" He realised abruptly that Ruth was staring at him with concern. "I'm sorry, was that a shock?"

Remus hurriedly waved a hand. "No, it's all right, I did know that. I just wasn't aware that you did."

Ruth smiled wanly. "Unfortunately so. Dad doesn't believe in secrets."

Remus prudently kept his mouth firmly shut. He liked this family, _his_ family. The last thing he wanted was to start an argument amongst them.

"Hey Beks!" Rufus' cheerful voice cut through the uncomfortable silence that followed. "Long time no see!"

Rebekah's eyes fixed dagger-like upon her brother. "_Don't _call me Beks," she snapped acidly. "My name is _Rebekah_. It is not hard to say, none of our names are hard to say, so why must you use these ridiculous abbreviations? Or perhaps, _Rufus_, you'd prefer it if I just called you _Ru_? Or _Fussy_?"

Rufus winced slightly at the later but kept smiling. "I've missed you too, sister dear," he stated simply and returned to his game with the children.

Rolphe rolled his eyes. "Now, now, you two," he said with a placatory gesture. "That's enough. Rebekah, why don't you come and meet our other guest?"

Remus felt his stomach drop like a stone. _Oh no_…

Rolphe and Rebekah came to a halt in front of him. Rebekah's smile was pointed and sharply frosty. As Remus mustered a wan smile in return, he could feel the gentle, restraining touch of Ruth's fingertips against his back.

"Remus, this is my second daughter Rebekah Goldstein," Rolphe informed him, apparently oblivious to the glacial atmosphere that shivered between his nephew and child. "Her son Anthony I think you know already." He gestured to where Anthony had engaged Reynard in spirited conversation. "He's quite a fan of yours. And her Julia will be joining you next September."

Rebekah's smile sharpened like a knife against a whetstone. Remus forced himself not to react._ Don't make a scene. This is for dad_.

"And Rebekah, this is…"

"Remus Lupin." Rebekah's voice interrupted, soft but edged with blades. "We've already met, haven't we _Professor_?"

Remus was taken rather aback, although not as greatly as Rolphe. Given Rufus' statement that Rebekah did not talk about her work, he had not expected her to mention their previous acquaintance. But – he fought to stay calm – if she was willing to mention it, what would she say? Would she try and poison his new found family against him in order to rid him from her home?

"You've met?" Rolphe's surprise intervened. "Why you never said! Either of you!"

Remus forced a smile. "I was unaware that Rebekah and I were related when we met." His jaw hardened. "She did not choose to tell me."

Rebekah's stare darkened as her father's eyes switched reproachfully in her direction once more. "It did not seem relevant," she replied, clearly barely restraining herself from making it a retort. "The Professor was assisting me with some research at work. Mentions of a family connection would have interfered."

Rolphe's eyes were more knowing that Remus had expected. He exchanged a glance with Ruth. "Ah," he stated simply. "Well, never mind. Consider this a whole new chance to get to know each other."

There was something unnerving in Rebekah's smile. "Indeed. And to that end – Professor, will you walk with me? The meadows outside are quite charming at this time of year."

If there was one thing that Remus was quite certain of it was that he did _not _want to be alone with Rebekah Goldstein at the moment. He smiled politely. "I was hoping to circulate a little more," he said in a level tone. "And dinner will be ready soon…"

"Oh, I'm sure we've got time." Rebekah's eyes glistened maliciously. "I was hoping we might discuss your conversation with _Daniel Arden_. Unless of course, you'd rather talk about it here?"

Daniel. Gods.

Remus almost started as a torrent of chilly fear swamped his body from crown to sole. He fought to maintain his composure.

_She heard. She actually heard. Oh bloody, bloody hell_…

And _discuss it here_ – he knew a threat when he heard one. He could just imagine the look on Tonks' face if he told her that he had gone walking alone with Rebekah Goldstein, but what other choice did he have? And surely she wouldn't do anything with her family so close at hand…

"Well," he said with an uncomfortable smile. "When you put it like that…"

Rebekah's eyes gleamed in triumph. "In that case, shall we…"

Three staccato claps interrupted her words. Thalia Lupin was standing in the doorway, flushed but cheerful. "Everyone!" she exclaimed. "Come and sit up for dinner!"

Rebekah's expression dropped instantly. "Thalia, the Professor and I were about to take a walk…"

Thalia gave her a look of impatient sternness. "Oh dear, don't be silly, you can walk after dinner. We can't let the food get cold."

Rebekah's jaw tightened but she did not argue further. "Very well," she said softly. "I suppose it can wait. _After _dinner then, Professor."

And with that, she turned and swept away.

The meal was delicious. It was also the longest of Remus' life.

Sat between his father and Ruth, he smiled and chatted with various relatives, complimented the food and ate heartily, but always within, a cold corner shivered beneath the bayful, knowing glare of Rebekah Goldstein's eyes and the overhanging threat of their after dinner talk. What would she say? Had his earlier release been just a stay of execution, a silver bullet deflected but not dodged? Would she expose him as having turned feral in front of her – of _their_ – entire family?

Except for Kane. Obviously. But that he knew he must not mention.

And then, finally, eternally, after delicious soup, a tasty roast and gorgeous chocolate fudge cake, Thalia clapped her hands once more and chivvied her groaning, full stomached family back into the living room.

But Remus did not make it that far. In the corridor, Rebekah caught his arm and gestured to the door.

"Time for our walk, Professor," she said quietly. "And a little discussion about you and The Howling."

Remus cast a brief, almost plaintive glance into the living room where his father was settling down into a chair beside Roderick's portrait once more. But then, he forced himself to turn and follow Rebekah outside.

It was still a beautiful day. The meadows danced with colourful flowers, the birds flitted overheard and the breeze whispered. And Remus did not notice a whit of it.

He felt vaguely sick. The scar along his side seemed to itch and burn all at once and the world around him seemed a step away, distant, detached, confused. He felt almost…_empty._

And then, all at once, it was gone. The breeze touched his skin, a gentle stroke. And in spite of the danger of his situation, he could not shake an odd sense of _peace_.

"You know I wouldn't have come here today if it hadn't meant so much to daddy," Rebekah's voice, when it came, was surprisingly soft. "I love my father, Professor, and it would have broken his heart not to have us all here for his big reconciliation with his brother and nephew. Whether or not we agreed with it." She regarded him coldly, an odd frost under a beautiful afternoon sun. "I knew you were my cousin when I invited you to the Institute. As much as anything, I was curious."

"Not curious enough to give me a chance," Remus picked absently at the head of a waving wildflower. "I'm not Kane, Rebekah, and I didn't kill your family. I didn't harm your son."

"But you _could _have done," Rebekah's words were a sudden hiss. "You could have done because you've turned feral before, haven't you? Golden eyes, Daniel Arden said. And whilst that boy may have addled his brains in that ridiculous club, he's got good eyes."

_Eyes. Daniel's eyes_.

The realisation attacked with a rush. Of _course_! He'd been so busy fretting about how close he had come to turning, it hadn't even occurred to him that Daniel might have been mistaken. But how could he have clearly seen if he was…

"Good eyes covered by _yellow contact lenses_." Remus straightened himself suddenly. Probably he would never know the truth, whether he had come so close that the flash had been there in his eyes or whether it had all been a mistake, that Daniel had not seen what he believed. But at least now he had hope…"How could he have seen anything clearly in a world tinted with gold?"

Rebekah arched an eyebrow. "Do you think that matters?" she stated with a cruel smile. "He says he saw your eyes were gold. Under the Umbridge legislation, that's enough to have you locked away for the rest of your days. And even without that, Daniel's testimony would still place you in The Howling and in the company of Abraham Kane to boot. Added to a charge of trespass – possibly to eliminate a witness to your crime – and we have far more than even I would need to lock you away." She halted abruptly, swinging round to face him. "You're a _werewolf,_ Professor," she whispered softly. "Who needs proof?"

Remus felt his heart drop like a stone. That, at least, was alarmingly true.

"Then why didn't you?" The question escaped almost accidentally. "Why didn't you lock me up and throw away the key?"

Rebekah hardened her chin as her brow creased and her eyes glared. "Because it would have broken my father's heart. He was looking forward to this dinner so much. How could he have faced it if his daughter had locked away his brother's only son?" She frowned grimly. "But he's had his reunion. And you've had your probation. The gloves are _off,_ Professor. You can walk free for now. But if you put _one sliver of a toenail_ out of line, I will have you locked up on Level Six before you can even find a moment to _blink_."

It was a foolish impulse. But Remus did not like being threatened.

"Lock up _both _your cousins?" he retorted. "If this is how you treat them, you shouldn't be allowed to have any."

The flash in Rebekah's eyes told him all he needed to know about her awareness of Kane's parentage. Her smile was more like a grimace.

"I really don't think that's going to be a problem much longer," she replied.

Remus stared at her. But before he could say a word, something grey and feathery plunged across his vision and dropped a sealed letter into Rebekah's already outstretched hand. Her eyes darted briefly after the owl before flashing to the letter.

Remus followed her gaze. It bore the seal of the Institute. The word URGENT was printed in bold red letters across it.

Rebekah did not say a word. She looked at the letter. She looked at Remus.

And just for an instant, something indefinable flashed across her eyes.

And then without a word, she turned away, swivelling on her heel in a swish of robes to stalk back towards the house, breaking the seal of the letter as she did so. A moment later, her pace had doubled.

_Now what?_

After a moment's hesitation, Remus moved hurriedly in pursuit.

As he stepped back into the house, a flurry of protests greeted his ears, the insistence of Ruth that something could surely wait, the sadness of Rolphe and Rebekah's voice declaring over and over that she had to go, she had to go. As Remus stepped into the living room, a flare of green from the fireplace told him that Rebekah had already had her way.

Reynard was on his feet, one hand on his brother's shoulder as Rolphe stared with weary resignation into the fading fire. Rufus was rolling his eyes. Anthony looked bewildered. Ruth looked downright annoyed.

She had made such a fuss just moments before about not upsetting her family. So what was so urgent that it made her break that pledge?

Remus didn't know. But he didn't like it. As soon as the dinner was over, he intended to get in touch with Tonks.

Rufus was clambering to his feet. "That passing blur you saw?" he said to Remus with a shrug. "That was Rebekah leaving. She's flooed home so she can portkey into work."

Remus sighed. "She's gone then?"

Ruth's eyes darted towards him at once. "I don't suppose she told you what that was all about?" she queried irritably. "All she told us was that there was an emergency at work and she had to leave at once."

Remus moved over to her side, stepping round the cluster of now slightly subdued children scattered across the floor. "She got an owl while we were talking," he said, maintaining an air of curious disinterest in spite of his concern. "It was from her work place and had URGENT printed on it. Beyond that I know as much as you."

Ruth gazed in frustration down at the rug by her feet. "I don't know what's the _matter_ with her lately," she proclaimed suddenly. "She used to write to me and dad every week, visit at least once a fortnight, work be damned – her family was more important. But ever since Christmas, she's been obsessed. We've hardly seen her or heard from her – dad would never say so, but it's breaking his heart." She gestured to where Rolphe was smiling wanly as his wife and brother attempted to engage him in distracting conversation. "I had to be big sister after mum died but Rebekah's always been the daddy's girl. She loves her husband, she loves her kids but she's even stopped writing to Anthony at school. She used to go home every evening to their house in Scarborough – now Felix and Julia are lucky if she spends one night a week with them. And she's so _secretive_. She was always discreet, her work demanded it, but secretive, never. Something's changed with her and I just don't like it."

Christmas. There was one event that Remus could quite precisely pin upon that time.

"Do you know what Rebekah does for a living?" she asked softly.

Ruth's eyes lifted. "I know she works in the Feral Institute," she stated, her voice carefully lowered as she nudged Remus away from the others, a little closer to the fire. "After mum and Randolph died, werewolves became her obsession. Even as a child, she was determined to make sure it never happened to another family again." She shrugged slightly. "Other than that, it sounds like you know more than I do."

Remus took a deep breath. He was probably breaking a good dozen Ministry rules with what he was about to reveal, but oddly enough, he didn't much care. Besides, for reasons he could barely explain, he was certain that Ruth could be trusted.

An odd heat was pulsing against his thigh – perhaps being so close to the fire was not very wise but it least it meant they were out of earshot of the others. What he was about to say was probably best not offered for general Lupin consumption.

He met his cousin's curious stare. "She has Kane in her custody there," she said simply. "He's been there since Christmas. That was the research I helped her with."

Ruth's eyes went saucer-round. "Oh my god," she breathed softly. "No wonder she's…" Her hand shot out and grasped his wrist. "Don't tell my dad," she whispered sharply. "He'd have seizures."

Remus shook his head. "Don't worry. I haven't even told mine."

"Good." Ruth was bobbing her head anxiously. Her eyes flicked up to meet his. "Thank you for telling me, Remus," she said, her voice quiet but sincere. "At least it helps me understand a little better. We were starting to think that something was seriously wrong."

Remus lowered his eyes. Now was probably not the time to mention to Ruth that her sister was fairly high on an Auror's list of suspected Death Eaters.

Heat pulsed against his thigh once more; glancing down, Remus wondered for a moment if an ember had leapt from the fireplace and settled on his robes, but no burn or flicker of fire was visible, just a steady pulse of warmth that emanated from…

His waist pouch. The pouch where he kept…

_The coin!_

His eyes darted up. Ruth was leaning against the mantle, staring absently into the flames, his presence apparently forgotten. Quietly, he stepped aside and moved away, hurrying over to the deserted corner where the lonely piano still played on, this time the enthusiastic strains of Grieg's _Piano Concerto_. Leaning carefully against the lid, he nonchalantly began to examine the family photos scattered across it, mock stretching slightly as he reached casually into his belt pouch and pulled the warm Sickle into his hand.

One glance at the lettering around its edge was enough.

TB ASAP.

Remus dropped the Sickle back into his pouch, his mind racing. The Three Broomsticks then – that was obvious. And ASAP was as vivid as the bright red URGENT on Rebekah Goldstein's letter. Something _significant _had happened.

_So Felisha requests an immediate meeting just as Rebekah is called urgently away to the Institute? If that's a coincidence, I'm a Crumple Horned Snorkack_.

He had to go. But how could he? How could he just walk out in the middle of a reunion just as Rebekah had done without breaking his father's heart as well?

He glanced at Reynard and knew the answer. He couldn't. He just couldn't.

Tonks would go at once – today was her day off. And if it was desperately, desperately urgent, she'd tell him so.

He could only hope that it was not.

----------------------------------

At 6pm, on the dot, Remus Lupin apparated to the back door of the Three Broomsticks inn.

A quick trip to the toilet had been enough for Remus to muster a quick by-coin conversation with Tonks. He had transmitted his reply to the summons – TB 6PM-RL – and received an almost instant reply – FINE BDOORTB- NTFH – which told him firstly that Tonks was already on the scene and secondly, that he was to meet them at the back door when he came. That Tonks was not hurrying him desperately along was encouraging at least, and so he had returned to the Lupins, mingled, laughed, and done his very best not to fret. His father was offered, and accepted, an invitation to stay, but when that invitation was extended to Remus, he had declined politely, stating his need to get back to Hogwarts for the new term. And then, with sincere promises to come by again soon, Remus had said his farewells to his family and left.

His family. It still took some getting used to.

But now was not the time to think of that. It was back to the grim reality of the Order and his mission.

He spotted Tonks immediately, resting side by side on the Three Broomsticks back step. Even in the fading light, Remus could see that Tonks was very pale and her expression could be best be described as strained. When her eyes fixed upon him, her features shifted to downright nervousness.

Remus was at her side in a moment. "What's happened?" he exclaimed at once. "Where's Felisha?"

"Back at the Institute." Tonks twisted her lip as she gazed up at him. "She couldn't risk blowing her cover by staying for more than a couple of minutes. But she told me what was going on and so I waited for you." She pulled a face. "Remus, I don't know how you're going to take this. I'm not sure whether it's good or bad myself."

Remus stared at her. "Tonks, if it was urgent, you could have called me here sooner…"

Tonks raised her hands to forestall him, reaching out for his arm in support, she let him pull her to her feet. "It's not really urgent," she said quietly, wearily and with a deep sigh. "At least, it's nothing we can do anything about. It's just…an unexpected _development_."

Remus frowned, his mind racing anxiously across the possibilities. "Tonks, you're making me nervous. What did Felisha say?"

Tonks swallowed hard. "I'm not sure how to tell you this so I'm just going to come out and say it." Her eyes met his, dark and deep, as her pale, slender hand wrapped around his. "Remus," she breathed softly. "Abraham Kane is dead."

**A/N**: Many thanks to my lovely reviewers **xMissxUnderstoodx, Liv Naravul, Mandalen, Rel Fexive, Thee-Unknown-Factor, merlinssister, The Great RC, Lucathia Rykatu, Hawkgal, Camilinha, Adre, Picklediskiller, iamlordmoldyshorts, Miracle, Howling-wolf, a happy bibliophile, sylthian, Kailin, Silver Moon 19, le petit chou, Analia's Broom, Hiro No Tsuki, InsaneMonkeyPirate, TonksIsMyHero, Gilpin, felixgirl **and **Smeagonlita **who are all extremely nice and deserving of showering of chocolate. :)

A Few Reponses:

**xMissxUnderstoodx **– Welcome out of lurkdom! I think I can let you off the thousand suns just this once…;) I'm really glad you like it – I'm flattered by your praise:)

**Liv Naravul** – Typos? They are my curse. I'm a self taught typist and hence make a mess of it on a fairly regular basis! And it's too late for me and the optician – we are already well acquainted due to my glasses/contact lenses! ;)

**Rel Fexive** – Awww… Rel, was that a brief attack of sentiment? ;)

**merlinssister **– Well, I come from a small immediate family with a big, friendly extended family (many of whom have strangely morphed into members of the Lupin family!) on my father's side who we see at "clan" gatherings a couple of times a year, so it is all from experience!

**Lucathia Rykatu** – The Lupins will appear a little more but not a great deal – circumstances are on the move now and I may not have time for detours….;)

**Hawkgal** – I know, I know. But ruthless as it sounds, it is more interesting to read and write when things for him go horribly wrong –huggles Remus and begs his forgiveness- And I was attacked by a rabid were-plot-bunny over the weekend – I'll probably stick the result up here as a one shot later in the week:)

**Camilinha** - I can say that and leave you wondering. Author's privilege –cackles evilly- ;)

**Pickledishkiller& Hiro No Tsuki** – I know, I know, I'm sorry! It was not my intent that this fic degenerate into a soap opera! ;)

**Miracle **– Welcome aboard! And yes, it makes sense, but would you really want to try it? ;) And –pats self on shoulder- Thank you:)

**Howling-wolf** – No more family issues now, don't worry. ;)

**a happy bibliophile** – Apologies for the cliffie but you might want to brace yourself on that front – it's getting towards that time in the fic where cliffies become more common! You want a duel? Be patient. ;) Reynard has more sense than to mention anything Remus shares with him. Chapters – eep. After Oblivious, I've given up on trying to estimate. At present I'm guessing maybe 40 but don't hold me to that – I'm already well over the chapter count I thought I'd have! I won't post all at once – I'm already three chapters ahead of myself but I'm trying to insure a leeway in case of injury/accident/illness/laziness so I can continue to post regularly. ;) And Cadburys – simply the BEST. :)

**sylthian** – I was worried Beks was a bit obvious; I almost changed it! I was very careful with the birth-dates to make sure I wouldn't make an oops! I'm glad it shows. :)

**Kailin **– As I said to merlinssister – it is partly from personal experience. ;) And I am a big fan of the classics. :)

**le petit chou** – Hi and welcome! It's always nice to see a reader come out of lurkdom and I'm glad you like it:)

**TonksIsMyHero** - I have written an original novel but it stalled rather in the editing process and so I started this fic as a break. I'll get back to it when Imperius is done. ;)

**Gilpin **– I know, I got a little carried away with the Lupins! I hope it wasn't too confusing…;)

Again, thank you all very much for reviewing! I'm sorry I can't reply to all of you personally but there are so many of you now (bless you all!) that I just haven't the time. :) You're all appreciated though. :)


	19. The Final Weakness

**A/N**: I felt a bit bad about giving a character of Kane's significance an off-screen death so I wrote the paragraph beneath to give him a better send-off. I felt he'd earned it.

_**19: The Final Weakness**_

"He's dying, Aylward. Call Professor Goldstein back to the Institute immediately."

"Yes, Doctor Croll."

Voices. The voices that came to him within that cell that had become his everything, that gave him liquids of cool calmness and sometimes one would send his mind to gentle, obedient bliss with a whispered _Imperio, Imperio_... Two of the voices were back again. The third would not be far.

He felt…weak.

_Weak, weak, weak, so weak…Not weak, can't be weak, must not be weak…but yet_…

Weak. So weak.

His stomach churned. The world, what he could see of it, the world, all the world, with its four walls and bed and blankets – it swirled, it span, it revolved, fading in and out of view as darkness touched its edges and gobbled it away. Faces danced in and out of his world, voices curled and whispered, the woman with her odd, odd gaze, the dark man and his liquids, shining, shining in glassy bright bottles and the tall one who stood and stared alone. They came and they went, staring, muttering, watching, the dark man with lip half curled and then again the woman, whose eyes burned at him like fire in acid, always, always staring.

It made no sense. Nothing made sense anymore.

He was aware, vaguely, that once things had made sense, that once he had been strong and weak was wrong, wrong, wrong but he remembered nothing of it but that distracted feel of something lost, dragged away to never be returned. There had been another and he had known, always known how to be strong.

But now there was only him. Alone and weak.

And fading.

Chaos. Nothing made sense, he could not think alone but no one would think for him and although he waited and waited for that lost voice to come and make him strong again, it never did. Flashes of things before the voice were all he had, an unshaven man with eyes that flashed gold as he soaked himself in drink and then dangled from a rope, faces in robes who smiled but shrank in fear behind their eyes and _him_, his _uncle_, who left him with the ones that feared, left him for the voice to come but now the voice was gone and he was weak, weak, weak, weak, weak…

Where was the ball? The ball made sense, back and forth, back and forth, no thinking, no weakness, no need for a voice, just back and forth and back and forth, quiet mind, so quiet. But now all in his world lurched back and forth and shadows rose and somehow they seemed to whisper – _here is the quiet. Here is the rest. You do not need the voice with us._

_But I should not be weak. The shadows are weak, the shadows are weak…_

_The shadows are quiet_.

_I want the quiet_.

Was being weak so bad? For what had he ever got from being strong except a sense of loss?

The dark man was watching again. The stare hurt him.

But not like the woman's did. He feared the woman's eyes.

He wanted to be alone. He wanted the shadow.

He wanted to be weak. For in weakness, there was peace.

His stomach burned. His heart pounded.

And then stopped.

The shadows surged. They swallowed him whole.

And Abel Isaacs let them.

---------------------------------------------------------

"What?"

He'd known. Not consciously, not openly, but the ache of his scar, the sickness, the strange absence, the odd sense of peace – some part of him had known that what remained of his cousin, of the werewolf that had plagued his life, had fallen to his final weakness. On some level, he had known that Kane was dead.

Intellectually however, it came as a bit of a shock.

He was not upset, precisely. Nor was he glad. He was simply…

Numb. He was numb. And he had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to feel.

He became aware of Tonks' fingers, her gentle touch against his wrist.

"Kane is dead," she repeated softly in answer to his accidental question. "He died earlier this afternoon – and don't worry, I've already told the Order. Officially, it was some kind of stomach infection that finished him off. Unofficially..." She pulled a face. "Let's just say that Felisha doesn't find it very likely that he could have caught such an infection in a sterile environment like Level Six. She doesn't know what really happened, but she doesn't believe for a minute that he died of natural causes."

Remus struggled to focus. "That doesn't make sense," he said softly. "Why would they kill their only test subject?"

Tonks' grip tightened. "Maybe he knew something. Or maybe he was no more use to them. They have a Dementor, Remus. They can make all the _test subjects_ they want."

"But what would be the point?" Remus was already shaking his head. "Even if he did know something, his testimony is – would have been – useless. He was _insane_. If it wasn't natural, there's just no point to it. Unless…"

His voice trailed off. Rebekah Goldstein's face danced before his eyes.

_I really don't think that's going to be a problem much longer_…

And more than ever before, Remus knew she had a motive.

_She knew. She knew before the letter came_…

He wheeled on Tonks. "When did all this happen? When did Kane fall ill?"

Tonks blinked but answered promptly. "Felisha said that to judge by the chaos and fuss, he fell ill sometime early this morning. She said Rebekah even delayed going to some family party because of it but when he seemed to be on the mend, she left. But once she'd gone, he got considerably worse and died not long after. Only Croll and Aylward were there."

Remus almost laughed out loud. "And so I become her alibi," he said softly. "He dies and she's miles away, chatting in a meadow with me."

A line creased across Tonks' forehead. "Remus, what are you talking about?"

His eyes flashed up. "Rebekah Goldstein. My _cousin _Rebekah. _Kane's_ cousin Rebekah."

"Your _what?_" Tonks' green spiked head thrust into his field of view. "Remus, have you been _drinking_ or something? Because the pretty pink hippogriffs are _not _your friend."

Remus' eyes burrowed into hers, grasping against the strength of her presence to force the numbness away. This was serious. He needed to concentrate. He could work out what he was supposed to be feeling later.

"I _mean_ it," he said softly, though his words rang like steel. "Rebekah's family party was my family party. She is my father's brother's daughter. My cousin. And Kane's cousin too."

Tonks' dark eyes widened with shock. "_Bloody hell_," she said with feeling. "Bloody, bloody, _bloody _hell. Oh _Remus._ And I thought _my _relatives were bad."

Remus gave a twisted smile. "There's something we have in common. We both have family who'd gladly dance on our graves."

"The Malfoys are too dignified to dance. They'd probably kind of strut instead. But Bellatrix would probably _tango_." Tonks flashed a grin for an instant then abruptly became serious. "I think it's pretty clear that you had no idea about Rebekah. But was it as much of a shock to her?"

"No." Remus pulled a face. "She's known all along. That's why she never even gave me a chance. Kane killed her mother and brother and she can't quite forgive me for living when they did not."

Tonks stared. "Wait, wait, back up. _Kane_ killed her _mother_?" At Remus' nod, her eyes darkened. "And now, suddenly, Kane dies in her care under mysterious circumstances."

"I think she knew." Whether she was a Death Eater or not, of this fact Remus was almost certain. "I think she knew he was going to die before the letter came. She all but told me so."

"That doesn't surprise me." Tonks frowned deeply. "There are ways enough to kill at a distance, especially with an apparent _stomach infection_. A slow acting poison would probably do it – and she'd have known that she'd be miles away from the blame when it happened because she would be at dinner with _you_. But Kane, as a former feral, would have a strong constitution. Say she dosed him in the morning but found he was starting to shake it off by early afternoon. So she dosed him again, more powerfully and left him to die in her absence."

It made an alarming amount of sense. Shaking his head slowly, Remus sighed. "But why now?" he asked softly, almost to himself. "If she wanted him dead, why didn't she do it the moment he entered her custody?"

Tonks regarded him with narrow eyes. "She needed him for her experiments. The Imperius curse and all that."

"And she doesn't need him now?" Remus gazed into the darkening sky. "Which can only mean…"

"She's finished." Tonks completed the sentence, her heart-shaped features suddenly pale. "She didn't need him anymore. She'd found what she was looking for. And she's ready to start…" Her fingers tightened sharply around Remus' wrist. "We're getting you back to Hogwarts. _Now_."

Remus winced as her fingernails dug against his skin. "Tonks…"

"No arguments, Remus." Tonks' eyes were fierce. "We know for a fact that you're well up on Rebekah's hit-list and if she's ready to start Kissing and cursing her residents, she may well decide it's time to invite you to a different kind of party. And I'd rather you were somewhere more secure than here if she does."

"I _can_ look after myself." Remus was painfully aware of just how much he was repeating himself on that score – did he really look so vulnerable and helpless to those around him?

Tonks' eyes raked pointedly across the fading scar tissue that poked just above the collar of his robes. "Of course you can," she said with a slightly ironic nod. "I'd just rather you didn't have to prove it. Besides, Dumbledore's called an Order meeting about this for later tonight and we probably shouldn't be late. Now come on. Apparate to the gates on the count of three…"

Dutifully, Remus joined her count. "One, two, three…"

The world squeezed, contracted and then abruptly the glow of Hogsmeade was gone, replaced by dark and towering trees and a long stretch of empty road. To his left the twin pillars and iron gate that marked the boundary of Hogwarts School reared above them, the sparkling lights of the castle gleaming against the fading twilight. In the distance, small figures darted through the air over a floodlit Quidditch pitch. A lantern burned brightly in Hagrid's hut, silhouetting a large figure within.

Tonks shook out her robes just in front of him and glanced up, her features etched in the glow of the waxing moon above.

"I hope you've got a key," she said with a slight smile, gesturing to the gate's heavy padlock. "Because I…"

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

There was no time to think. There was barely time to act. A glimpse of a wand, a white mask washed in moonlight and emerald - Remus slammed himself hard into Tonks, hurling them both down onto the road with a crunch as a whine of green light skimmed through the night and split the air where the Auror had stood a mere half second before. Even as he gasped for breath, staring into Tonks' shocked eyes, the darkness around them seemed to boil and come alive, the gaps between the trees abruptly awash with unnatural white faces and flying dark robes, everywhere, all around, more, far more than the mere two they faced. Remus snatched his wand from his belt as he dragged himself to his feet; he heard Tonks mutter a heartfelt "_Shit!_" before she too bolted upright, and, almost as one, they span on the spot to apparate.

Nothing happened.

_Anti-apparition wards. They must have activated them after we appeared. Damn!_

Remus shot a glance at Tonks. Her eyes were wide and horrified as she too reached the same conclusion. But there was no choice left. Brandishing her wand, she swung with him to face their attackers.

"_Reducto!_"

The instant's hesitation was enough. A second spell hurtled into the ground between them, gouging a crater out of the skin of the road in an explosion of hard shrapnel. Remus dived to the side, protecting himself from the hail of stones and earth with a hurriedly thought _Protego_ – he saw a wand glint against the moonlight and twisted sharply aside, barely in time, as a beam of red light narrowly skimmed past his ear, screeching as it tore the air to shreds in ominous passing. Wheeling, heart racing and pounding against his chest, he turned on the first white mask he saw and barked out "_Iacto!_" barely pausing to watch as the Death Eater was lifted from his feet and flung dramatically back into the forest with shatter of twigs and leaves and a roar of anger. A screech of "_Stupefy!_" sounded behind him but another swift _Protego_ negated it – _Protego, protego, must keep up protego_ – casting blind he flung a swift "_Supino!_" over his shoulder, heard the grunt as his spell struck home and hurled his attacker prostrate onto his back and then he was rushing past the supine figure for better cover, stamping with a crack against his victim's outstretched wand before he dived behind a tree, narrowly escaping a cutting spell that slashed against the bark with a flurry of sawdust mere inches from his head. A quick reassuring glance told him that Tonks was more than holding her own – two Death Eaters lay stupefied by the road side, another battled against vicious ropes and as he watched, a fourth was hurled backwards, lifted from his feet by her powerful cry of "_Sterno Aquila!_" left to struggle, moments later, pinned and spread eagled against the trunk of a nearby tree.

But there was no more time to hesitate. Green light sliced sickening past his shoulder from a new direction; darting to one side with a snap of twigs, he heard a voice bellowing "_No, you fool!_ We need the werewolf _alive_!" and then three more masked faces were surging from the darkness towards him, wands waving and there was no more time to listen either.

The lead figure was already stretching out his wand. "_Expell_…"

_Long spells. No time for long spells_. Why were all the best- known combat spells so _long_?

"_Roto!_"

The Death Eater gasped and then yelped as his black robes whipped around him, dragging him into a spin as he revolved madly on the spot like a top, faster, _faster,_ _faster_, dust flying as his feet dug circles in the grass His two companions paused in shock.

It was a mistake.

"_Apis! Hebeo!_"

His nearest assailment screeched in horror and abruptly fled as a swarm of bees engulfed him like a wave, vicious and determined to pepper every inch of skin with their stings. His companion did not move – instead, his jaw drooped as he hunched, heavy, dull and vacant eyed on the spot, not even flinching as his whirling companion's wand was ripped away by centrifugal force to twang against his nose. Each nostril sprouted a daisy.

Remus almost grinned. When would the rest of the world learn that if you knew effective enough short spells, you didn't need to wrap your tongue around _Expelliarmus_ or _Impedimenta_. _Roto_ was a personal favourite.

"Remus!"

The whine of a passing spell narrowly missed him as he flung himself to one side – he caught a glimpse of Tonks' furious face and then a scratched and twig-covered Death Eater tumbled backwards, head over heel before slamming face first into the nearby pillar. He did not move again.

Remus slapped himself mentally. _Combat situation, Lupin. No time for self-congratulation!_

An enormous brute of a figure was charging towards him with a roar, waving his unusually long wand like a cudgel. His thick lips, jutting from beneath his mask, were already moving.

"_Petrif_…"

_Oh, for goodness sake…_

"_Volito!_"

The man's eyes glazed behind his mask and then suddenly he was racing, rushing past in a helter-skelter, out of control double speed that carried him face first into the nearby brick wall. Hands waving uncontrollably, legs still pumping, he continued to head-butt the solid brick as though to ram it from his path.

Remus wheeled, his breath a rasp, his blood racing just in time to see three more Death Eaters rush from the trees. They turned sharply towards him.

_Dear Gods! How many are there?_

"_Caligo!_"

A dark mist swirled from his wand, wrapping itself around the trio of assailants and engulfing them in heavy cloud. Guided by their shouts of fury, he fired off "_Stupefy!_" once, twice, three times. Three thuds told him he had struck his targets.

All around him, spells peppered the air. Although they had taken down a good dozen Death Eaters between them, he and Tonks were still outnumbered three to one.

And he was tiring. Fast.

_Take the werewolf alive. All this for me? How badly must they want me?_

And then he heard a sound that made his heart stop.

"_Sectumsempra!_"

And Tonks screamed.

He half-turned. And that was all he had time for.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

A green haired figure slammed into his side, hurling him back against one of the pillars with a sickening thud. Tonks' dark eyes flashed into his.

And then her eyelids flickered and she slumped into his arms.

It was then that Remus realised that her robes – and now his – were stained with blood.

Too much blood.

"Drop the girl, werewolf."

The voice was low, rough and cold, the same voice that had ordered him taken alive. He looked up.

Six dark robed Death Eaters stood in an untidy semi-circle, wands extended towards him. He was trapped.

In the centre, icy eyes glittered behind the mask of a tall figure. A smirk touched the edge of his lips.

"Drop the girl," he repeated coolly. "There's no way out. You're coming with us, Professor Lupin."

Remus drew himself up, his arms tightening around Tonks' limp form instinctively.

"And her?" he asked softly. "What are you going to do with my friend if I let her go?"

The smirk curled. "Why, I would have thought that was obvious. And I thought you were supposed to be an intelligent… _man_." The Death Eater sneered over the word, his eyes burned with malice. "Because you see, when we leave here, _Professor,_ there'll be _one less Auror_ in the world."

**A/N**: I apologise for the likely utter inaccuracy of the above Latin – I simply typed some words that I thought might produce the spell results I want into an online Latin dictionary and picked the words that were short and sounded good. ;)

Many thanks to **sylthian, elka78, The Great RC, Hawkgal, Smeagolita, emmaD, Aylah, thee-unknown-factor-incognito, Camilinha, le petit chou, Ruby, TonksIsMyHero, PickledishKiller, Howling-Wolf, Kailin, InsaneMonkeePirate, Silver Mo0n 19, Zeyazo, Analia's Broom, xMissxUnderstoodx, Rel Fexive, Gilpin, PaulaS, felixgirl, Cartoon-Protector, Mandalen, Thing1, Liv Naravul, Godricgal **and** Mouseykins** for your lovely reviews. I'm sorry I can't reply to all of you individually but I'm afraid I just don't have enough lunch hour. Goodness, there are so many of you now, it's quite scary! Though in a good way. :)

A Few Responses:

**sylthian** – I'm sorry. But Kane as he was has been technically dead since he was Kissed – this way was really kinder. Trust me. ;)

**elka78** – The feeling Remus has was Kane's death. It seemed logical that he would be aware of it.

**The Great RC** - -slaps typoing self- Doh! ;)

**Hawkgal** – I hope this chapter has answered your question. Nobody's really upset about Kane's death but it does have unpleasant implications…

**emmaD** – Very perceptive. ;) And Remus will return to the Institute but I'm not saying in what capacity…;)

**Camilinha **– Just bear with me and all will be revealed – eventually…;)

**TonksIsMyHero** – It's a fantasy novel but as I said, it's a bit bogged down at the moment. It's finished but needs shortening because –ahem- as usual with me, it's a bit too long…;)

**Howling-wolf** – Good guess…;)

**Kailin** – Actually, I meant my chapter total will probably be about forty. So about 20 more to go, depending on how much I over write by…;)

**Ruby** – Welcome aboard! Updates are every Wednesday. :)

**xMissxUnderstoodx** – Watch out for my ego. When it's overfed it goes on mad rampages and stomps on cities. Not of course, that I mean it shouldn't be fed…;)

**Gilpin** – Maybe. Maybe not…;)

**felixgirl** – I'm not sure I'd have ever called Kane "sweet" you know…;)

**Thing1** – Thank you very much! That is praise indeed coming from one of my favourite authors. :) My updates are regular if possible – I try and post every Wednesday so it's kind of like a serial…;)

**Liv Naravul** – You wanted to marry him? –checks Liv's temperature- Would you like to see a doctor? ;) And nope – he's definitely a goner. Sorry…;) And sorry too on your Trelawney turn – you'll just have to wait and see! ;)

**Godricgal & Cartoon-Protector** – Welcome aboard! That's a big slog of reading – well done! I'm glad you both like it:)

Thank you all again very much. My ego is already growing and eyeing up a few neighbouring cities to rampage through screaming "FEED ME!" That is –ahem- please review….;)


	20. Onto Something

_**20: Onto Something**_

"_No_."

Remus' arms tightened, grasping her limp form in a firm embrace in an almost instinctive urge to protect as he swung her sideways to shield her body with his own. He could feel the slick, warm wetness of her blood soaking his hands, a stark contrast to the rampaging chill of cold that was running through his bones. Her green hair brushed softly against his chin.

_Not Tonks. You can't have Tonks_.

He had to do something. He had to think of something. His grip tightened further, pressing his fingers into the folds of Tonks' robes as something hard and wooden indented against his palm…

His wand. He still had his wand.

In the shock of Tonks' fall, he had barely noticed that he had not actually been disarmed. And his captors, it seemed, had not noticed at all.

One shot. If he was lucky. But one shot might be enough…

He straightened his back and turned his head.

"No," he repeated, one word wrought from purest steel, his eyes stony as he stared over his shoulder and fixed his gaze upon the smirking form of the lead Death Eater. "If you want to kill her, you'll have to kill me too. And you've already made it pretty clear that I'm needed alive."

The Death Eater's lips quirked with palpable annoyance.

"You Order types," he sneered coldly. "Always have to play the _hero_, don't you? Face the truth, Professor – the girl is as good as dead. Put her down and she'll have a quick death at my hand. Or, of course, you could just continue to be awkward and let her bleed to death slowly here on the road. Either is fine by me."

Remus forced himself to breath slowly, to stay in control. He could feel Tonks' heartbeat – or was it his own? – vibrating across his ribcage. Their pulses mingled.

Holding his steady gaze was one of the hardest things he had ever done. "You can have me," he whispered softly. "Just let her go."

The Death Eater chuckled, cold and mirthless as he swept one hand in a loose semi-circle. "Look around, Professor. I have you anyway."

"I'll come quietly." He meant it. If his own freedom was the price he had to pay for Tonks' safety, so be it. "No struggles, no fuss. Just let her live."

The shake of the Death Eater's head was a slow death knell. "She knows too much."

The cold surged. Blood dripped and puddled on the floor, soaking his boots, much, too much. There wasn't much time.

_She saved me once when I was bleeding to death. I have to save her too_.

Lowering his head as though in sorrow, he buried his face into her hair and shifted his grip, pressing his wand unseen against her sliced ribcage. Focussing all his energy, he concentrated his mind on a non-verbal healing spell. He felt a flood of warmth as the spell released – he knew that under such circumstances any fix he made would not be clean or professional but if he could just stop the bleeding, if he could just give her more time…

The flood of blood against his fingers slowed abruptly to a trickle. He felt her eyelids flutter slightly against his cheek.

_Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes_…

"What are you doing?" The Death Eater's voice cut harshly into his single-minded focus. As Remus glanced up, he saw the cold eyes widen with realisation behind their mask.

"_Drop your wand_," he ordered sharply. "_Now._"

Remus hardened his jaw as a sudden wash of furious belligerence swamped him. "Drop the girl, drop your wand. Do make your mind up."

The Death Eater's wand trembled angrily. "You're on dangerous ground, Lupin."

Remus smiled grimly. "Then why don't you kill me?"

His adversary's eyes narrowed. "So smug, so _superior_," he drawled, his voice grating like ice over stone. "You think yourself so high and mighty. And yet you can't even call yourself _human_."

Remus felt his fingers clench with fury – desperately, he fought it down. Half conscious, Tonks jerked against his suddenly intensified grip.

He raised his head, his eyes bright and defiant. "I'm more a human than your precious_ master_ is. Or will ever be."

He saw the Death Eater's teeth grit and clench. "Drop your wand and drop the girl," he repeated, his voice shaking with a suppressed fury of his own. "Or face the consequences."

Remus straightened, adjusting his grip on his wand as he did so. _One shot_. _One shot to save Tonks. One shot to save yourself..._ The Hogwarts gates were just a few yards away – if he could create some kind of diversion, just enough time to haul himself and Tonks inside and close the heavily warded gate behind them…

He saw Tonks' dark eyes flicker towards him. She was not well. But she was _awake_.

He braced himself. "We've already established that you can't kill me."

The Death Eater's smile was alarmingly malicious. "They want you alive, werewolf," he drawled softly. "But they didn't say _undamaged_."

His eyes flashed cruelly as Remus realised, a mere moment before, what he intended to do. And he knew at once that this would be his only chance.

And then it came.

"_Crucio!_"

Pain, bright and excruciating, raced down his limbs, burning, screaming through his body with a triumphant roar as agony ran rampant. The Death Eater's eyes gleamed with sick joy as he watched his spell struck home.

But then his triumph faltered.

For Remus did not scream. Remus did not drop. Remus did not even let go of his Auror companion.

For Remus Lupin was a werewolf. And although the pain was terrible, although his body trembled and shook with the force of its intensity, although his blood boiled and his skin burned, it was nothing worse than the pain he had grown accustomed to enduring twice a night, once monthly for almost all his life.

And yes, it hurt like bloody hell. But Remus had never let pain stop him before.

Even ten or twenty seconds under the most agonising spell in the wizarding world.

His eyes met the Death Eater's. And shakily, he _smiled._

"Wrong spell," he rasped. "_Roto!_"

With a gasp of horror, the lead Death Eater staggered as his body began to spin, heels digging desperate troughs in the gravel as he fought to expel a counter curse to cease his sudden spiral. The other Death Eaters started forward but Remus was already moving with a shout of "_Caligo!_"; dark mist blossomed from his wand once more, engulfing him and sweeping him from their view. He felt Tonks brace against his arms, felt her stagger to her feet along side him as they both ducked instinctively from the spells shattering against the wall where they had just been stood. The mist swirled, blinding him as strongly as his enemies, but to follow the wall was all he needed, a few yards, a quick turn of a key…

He heard a coherent roar of fury – the lead Death Eater, it seemed, had mastered his counter curse. Remus redoubled his pace; Tonks grasped his arm with a gasp of pain as she stumbled suddenly but Remus' hands were already around her waist, hauling her upright again. The mist was already dispersing but the gate, the gate, where was the gate…

There was the gate! Fumbling in his blood damp robes, he felt the press of metal – grasping the key, he thrust it forcefully into the lock and turned.

_Yes! We're through! We're…_

And then, to his utter shock, he heard the whoosh of broomsticks overhead and a set of alarmingly familiar voices as they bellowed out into the night.

"_Stupefy!_"

"_Impedimenta!_"

"_Stupefy!_"

_Harry? Ron? Ginny?_

Broomsticks swooping over a distant Quidditch pitch, a team, the _Gryffindor_ team at practice. They must have seen the glow from the fight…

_Oh no, oh no, no, no…_

The mist had all but gone now and Remus could see the spells that illuminated the night as they burst from the wands of the six scarlet blurs that circled and rushed overhead, Harry, Ron and Ginny fiercely in the vanguard with Demelza Robins, Katie Bell and Jimmy Peakes just behind, all armed, all attacking, all to save him. Two Death Eaters were already down, clearly caught by surprise, but those still standing were holding their own against this aerial onslaught – even as Remus watched, the lead Death Eater slammed Peakes' broomstick with a well aimed _Incendio_ that sent the third year spiralling and smoking back over the school wall and down with a thud onto the lawn.

He grasped his wand. Adrenalin pounded through his body like a tempest.

_Oh dear Merlin, they'll be killed_…

But Tonks… The spell he had cast to cauterise her wound was rudimentary at best - she needed immediate medical attention. But how could he abandon his students to the tender mercies of a hoard of Death Eaters?

_Help me! Somebody please, come and help_…

And then, miraculously, his silent prayer was answered.

With a creak and crash of iron, the gates of Hogwarts were wrenched open wider as an enormous, bearded figure stumbled, gasping and wheezing and almost knocked him flat. A cudgel was gripped in one vast palm as irate eyes reached out in search of a target.

This was not a chance than Remus could afford to waste. "Hagrid!"

The gamekeeper's beetle black gaze turned on him at once as a beefy hand stilled his stagger from the impact. "Remus!" he exclaimed, starting forwards at once. "I'm sorry! I came runnin' as soon as I saw there were trouble but…"

"No time!" Unceremoniously, Remus thrust the still weak Tonks into the half-giant's arms. "Get her to Madam Pomfrey! Now!"

"No!" Deathly pale, half awake, Tonks nevertheless launched a futile attempt to bat away Hagrid's meaty hands. "No, Remus, I have to stay with you, I can help…"

_Oh for goodness sake_… Remus did not even dignify such foolishness with a reply. "_Go!_" he roared at Hagrid and with a nod, the gamekeeper obeyed his command, sweeping the protesting Auror into his arms and vanishing through the gate with her without another word. Across the grounds, on the steps of Hogwarts, Remus could see more figures streaming out of the castle towards the lumbering Hagrid and his burden. The lights in the infirmary flickered on.

_She's safe. Now save the children_.

But a moment later, even that became unnecessary. For the night burst into flames in a flash of firey orange that glowed like the purest furnace.

And Dumbledore appeared. His blue eyes surged with waves of compressed fury.

The lead Death Eater's eyes widened as he flung a desperate "_crucio!_" but the spell rebounded from Dumbledore's shield charm like a swatted mosquito. Grimly, the Headmaster raised his wand to retort.

He did not get the chance.

A flare of light signalled the dropping of the anti-apparition wards. And then, with a pair of echoing cracks, the lead Death Eater and one of his companions were gone.

For a moment, the very night seemed to freeze. And then, abruptly, surprisingly, the Death Eaters they had left behind staggered and then dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

For a moment, Remus could only blink at the vaguely unreal scene before him. The tall, imposing figure of Albus Dumbledore stood silent and thoughtful in the midst of a ring of unconscious, black robed bodies; his blue eyed gaze shifted from the limp figure still pinned against a nearby tree, to the unconscious, battered one slumped face first against the wall, to the dull-eyed, drooling one, his saliva still drip dripping in a slow and steady stream onto the grass as he stared mindlessly at his still frantically twirling companion, now dug a good foot into the earth and wailing helplessly. Overhead, five figures dressed in scarlet circled on broomstick back and surveyed the scene above.

And then a thump shattered the silence and broke the spell as Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody stepped out of night as one, each grasping a portion of what Remus recognised as one of the silver instruments from Dumbledore's desk. An instant later, they were gaping.

"Hell's teeth!" Moody's frustrated proclamation burst across the night like a blazing comet. "We missed the fight!"

"I'm afraid so." Dumbledore's long fingers flexed. "I apologise. I should have made the portkey more instant." With a nod at the two Aurors, he lifted his head. "Harry, if you would be so good as to take your team back to the castle. I suspect you will find Professor McGonagall crossing the grounds."

"But…" Harry's windswept protest took in both his Headmaster and Remus with its green-eyed intensity but Dumbledore's twinkling blue was more than its match.

"Professor Lupin and I will speak with you soon, Harry. Now please, the castle?"

James' son exchanged a brief, slightly irritable glance with Ron and Ginny. But then, with a weary nod, he and his fellow Gryffindors turned their brooms and vanished over the wall.

The cold of the night washed abruptly across Remus' skin as the sweat that soaked his brow cooled against the air. Weariness washed through his bones, heavy, oppressive – with a deep sigh, he allowed himself to slump back against the wall, acknowledging Dumbledore's gaze with a barely perceptible nod. The Headmaster smiled at him softly.

"Remus," he greeted gently. "Are you all right?"

It was only then that Remus remembered that his robes were still soaked with blood.

"Fine." Gritting his teeth slightly, Remus pushed himself away from the wall and made his way slowly and steadily over to where his fellow Order members had gathered. "It's Tonks' blood, not mine."

"Tonks?" Kingsley's head shot up like a whip-crack. "What happened to Tonks?"

His head was spinning, the world was dancing, but Remus forced himself to concentrate. "She was hit by a cutting spell," he replied, biting his lip as he struggled not to slur his words. "I did a rudimentary fix and Hagrid's taken her to Madam Pomfrey. I'm certain she's okay."

Kingsley did not look desperately reassured. "Remus, what happened here?"

A dull, insistent ache began to creak across Remus' body, tightening muscles, stabbing at joints. He shook his head to clear it. "We were ambushed," he stated wearily. "Tonks and I apparated here from the Three Broomsticks and found them waiting for us." He pulled a face. "They wanted me alive."

Kingsley frowned grimly. "_The Institute_. After Kane's death, this can't be a coincidence."

"I'll say," Mad-Eye Moody muttered with a scowl as he gestured around at their fallen foes. "Given these numbers, I'd say it was bloody important to them too." Wooden leg stumping against the gravel, the retired Auror ran his electric blue eye over the scene, his grizzled face frowning. "Good haul though," he remarked thoughtfully, kicking a supine body casually with his clawed foot as he leaned over to examine the white mask that concealed the face. "Almost too good in fact. You-Know-Who must be getting damned careless to waste this many followers so close to you, Albus."

"I quite agree." Treading carefully around an outstretched limb, Dumbledore moved to his old friend's side. "In fact, from what Severus has told me of Voldemort's recent recruitment tactics, I believe if we examine these opponents carefully, I think we will find that some of their number were not true Death Eaters at all. Observe."

Leaning forward gently, Dumbledore's long fingers curled around the white mask and lifted it away. Kingsley's gasp was audible.

"That's Minty Gabbidon! He works in the Hogsmeade Post Office!"

"Indeed." Dumbledore's expression was grim. "In fact, I suspect we will find that most of these Death Eaters come from the village of Hogsmeade. And not willingly."

The pain was creeping through his veins now, spreading and surging as the adrenalin of battle faded. Twenty seconds under the Cruciatus curse was no laughing matter, even for a werewolf; that Remus could take the pain at the time was not the point. He could handle it much as he could handle the agony of a transformation but that didn't mean that, just like at full moon, he wouldn't feel the _aftermath_.

"The Imperius curse," he offered, fighting to hide the tremble in his tone. _Stay on your feet, stay on your feet, don't be ridiculous…_ "Four or five true Death Eaters and an army of obedient victims."

"Exactly." Dumbledore straightened, his eyes sweeping the scenes. "And given that only two of your attackers made good their escape, I believe that means we will find two or three Death Eaters amongst the fallen." He fingered his wand between his thumb and forefinger. "Alastor, if you will assist me in incapacitating these people until we can establish the guilty from the innocent?" Moody nodded grimly. "And Kingsley, if you would escort Remus to the Hospital Wing? I believe he requires Madam Pomfrey's attention rather more than he wishes us to know."

Remus raised a hand in dismissal. "I'm fi…"

Luckily Kingsley's reflexes were good enough to catch hold of his elbow before he fell. As it was, the backwards stagger was rather undignified.

Kingsley raised a pointed eyebrow. "Of course you are, Remus," he remarked dryly. "But if it's all the same to you, let's do as Dumbledore says, shall we? Besides, I need to contact the Ministry and the Hospital Wing's on my way."

Remus pulled a face, trying to ignore the pounding protests of his body. "It's nothing, really."

"You're clammy, unsteady on your feet and you're white as a sheet." With a nod in Dumbledore and Moody's direction, Kingsley placed a supporting hand against Remus' back and guided him slowly but firmly in the direction of the Hogwarts grounds. "That's a significant nothing. What did you get hit with?"

Remus blinked, desperately struggling to clear his head. Every step was a heavy, painful weight and the bright lights of the castle and the blurry outline of approaching figures suddenly seemed an alarmingly long way away. "They wanted to kill Tonks and I wouldn't let them," he replied absently. "It was just a _Crucio_."

Kingsley's eyes bulged. "_Just a Crucio?_ Bloody hell Remus! In all my life as an Auror, I have _never_ heard anyone shrug off the Cruciatus curse as _just a Crucio_." His pace quickened distinctly. "Did you even try and get out of the way?"

Remus glared slightly. "They were going to _kill_ her," he repeated pointedly. "And it's no worse than I'm used to on a full moon."

"Forgive me if I'm not so blasé." Kingsley was shaking his head. "They went to a lot of trouble to capture you and get rid of Tonks. And if this doesn't have something to do with what's been going on at the Feral Institute, I'm Cornelius Fudge." He smiled dryly, but the set of his jaw was grim. "You know, Remus, there's an old saying in Auror circles, a saying I think is pretty relevant here. You know you're onto something when someone tries to _kill_ you. And if that's the case, you and Tonks are _really _onto something right now."

**A/N**: See? No one dead. You should have more faith in me…;)

Many thanks as per usual to my horde of lovely reviewers – **Mouseykins, vieras, Smeagolita, elka78, Liv Naravul, Rel Fexive, Thee-unknown-factor-incognito, The Great RC, xMissxUnderstoodx , wizardelfgirl, Hawkgal, GodricGal, Cartoon-Protector, Tabari Avaren, Pickledishkiller, Sycogerl64, a happy bibliophile, Howling-wolf, TonksIsMyHero, le petit chou, Adre, YourEvilOverlord, EllaJ, Mandalen, Gilpin, Siorsa, felixgirl, Kailin, Ruby, aurelie1, Miracle, Adele Starminster, sylthian **and** Analia's Broom** – you are all wonderful and have made my ego a ravenous glutton. ;) I wish I could respond to each and every one of you but my lunch hour just isn't long enough, bless you. ;)

**Mouseykins** – Poetic was what I was going for. So thank you:)

**vieras & EllaJ** – Thank you very much and welcome out of lurkdom! It's pretty out here isn't it:)

**Liv Naravul** – I'm glad you liked it. Action chapters always require a lot of work so it's great to hear that they work. And… ACK! Bugger, I'm so, so sorry, I remember when I saw your review last week I was going to email you the chapter a day early but curses on my head, I completely forgot until I came to write these responses this morning! –smacks stupid self along the head- A thousand apologies…:(

**xMissxUnderstoodx** – I apologise for killing your last shred of sanity. I didn't mean to…;) And thank you for the "Without Words" picture – it was lovely:)

**wizardelfgirl** – I really wanted to show with this duel that Remus is competent at defending himself – after all, this is the only man who, in the last two major canon duels, has come out completely unscathed. He must be pretty damned good…;) I also wanted to prove, in this scene and the fic in general, that Tonks is competent too – so many fics have her as a silly, useless dueller tripping over her own feet when she is an _Auror_ and must have done pretty well to get that far. It's a shame she had to get hit but it was necessary…:( Thank you for the ego titbits. ;)

**Hawkgal** – Nice suggestion but this chapter was already written when I posted last weeks so their fate had been decided. ;) And I've checked back and her hair was definitely green unless I've missed a reference…

**Tabari Avaren** – See, look? Not dead. :) And you're placing me alongside Fernwithy and Pandora Culpa? Blimey, that is flattering:) Serial fiction is kind of what I was going for. And you're right, Tonks is so much fun to write. It's quite spooky though, the way that when she and Remus are put in a scene together, they just take off and all but leave me behind! ;)

**a happy bibliophile** – Yep. I did. I told you to bear with me…;)

**Howling-wolf** – Yep. They did. ;)

**Gilpin **– Are you suggesting that Remus has inappropriate feelings for a mermaid? ;D

**felixgirl** – I hope you feel better:)

**Ruby** – I am sorry – what an awful chapter to finish reading through on! I hope you are still functioning…;)

**Miracle **– Sorry about that. –offers a towel- ;) And see, look? Tonks isn't dead:)

**Adele Starminster** – Only third? Damn, I shall have to work harder…;)

Thank you all again and reviews are a magnificent ego-food…;)


	21. Word of Mouth

**A/N:** A quiet, light chapter for you all, to recover from recent cliffies. Enjoy. :)

_**21: Word of Mouth**_

Remus couldn't help but feel that he really had spent far too much of his life in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing.

It had been only under sufferance that he had allowed himself to be escorted to a bed upon his arrival in the too familiar ward and only then after a firm and indisputable proclamation from Poppy Pomfrey that both Tonks and Jimmy Peakes were perfectly fine and resting comfortably. He had taken his Wolfsbane obediently – that was not a mistake he ever wished to make again - but the matron's insistence that he lie down and get some rest himself was immediately protested. He had to help, he informed her, he had to talk with Dumbledore and Kingsley and decide what they were going to do now that the Institute's Death Eater had rolled their dice and crossed the Rubicon. All he needed was something to calm his shakes and still his tremors and he would be on his way.

Poppy had pursed her lips together tightly and eyed him from beneath narrowed brows. And then she had handed him a purple potion and told him it would do as he asked.

Remus drank it.

His eyelids grew instantly heavy, his mind filled with sleepy fog. He had only a moment to wryly acknowledge the deceptive cunning of experienced school matrons in the face of a stubborn but trusting patient before he dropped inevitably into a deep and peaceful slumber.

And when he awoke, a slow reluctant blink back into consciousness, he found himself tucked into bed in a Hospital wing flooded with mid-morning light as a gentle finger stroked the length of his cheek in a soft and soothing fashion.

For a moment, Remus allowed himself to simply drift into wakefulness. His head was distinctly fuzzy but that was mostly to be expected after the battle of the night before. But at least the ache and tremble in his body was mercifully gone; in that respect, Poppy had at least been telling the truth about her potion. But still…

"Bloody Poppy," he muttered half-heartedly.

The stroke against his cheek ceased instantly. A heart-shaped face, pale and rather sleepy-eyed darted abruptly into his line of sight.

"She got you too then." Tonks' voice was wry and slightly rueful as she smiled down at her still dozy companion. "Ruddy purple potion. I'm never trusting that woman again."

Remus smiled in spite of himself. As coherence returned, he glanced towards her, drinking in her features, washed in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. Although still not back to her usual shade of skin, the deathly whiteness of the battle was blessedly gone, although the limp brown locks she wore in lieu of her normal, more vibrant hairstyles did subdue her face rather more than Remus had come to expect. She was wrapped in a pale pink dressing gown that he suspected had been lent to her by Poppy to replace her bloodstained robes, leaning back with a vaguely weary air in the chair propped by his bedside. She looked well enough, if not entirely herself.

Grimacing, Remus forced himself up onto his elbows. "Are you all right?" he asked at once, his eyes scanning over her once more almost to reassure himself that she really was there, beside him, awake and whole. "I was so worried…"

The smile on Tonks' face lit the room like a sunbeam. "I'm fine," she replied with a slight wave of one hand. "The cut wasn't as deep as it could have been. Madam Pomfrey healed me up in a flash and dosed me with Blood Replenishing potion as soon as Hagrid brought me inside. And then…" She pulled a face. "When I told her I wanted to go outside and help you again, she told me I just had to drink some of this purple potion she offered me first…" She snorted with wry fondness. "Ruddy woman. You'd think we were still students."

Remus chuckled as he pulled himself into a sit and leaned back against the headboard. "Everyone under the age of about forty is still a student to Poppy Pomfrey and always will be. And she always gets her way in the end. I've learned that the hard way more times than I'd care to count." Absently, he brushed his hair out of his face. "How long have you been sitting there? Shouldn't you be in bed as well?"

Tonks stifled a yawn. "I'm fine now," she insisted with a shrug. "All better. I woke up a couple of hours ago. I was out cold all night - this stuff takes a while to properly wear off - but I've been sat here maybe half an hour waiting for you to come round."

"A couple of hours?" Remus glanced again at the streaming light, frowning slightly at the nagging sense that there was something he ought to be doing, somewhere else he ought to be. "What time is it?"

Tonks shrugged slightly. "Getting on for eleven am, I'd guess. We'll know when the next bell goes…"

Bell. Monday. It was eleven in the morning on _Monday_.

"My _classes_!" Remus grasped the bed-sheets, intending to fling them aside but Tonks' hand descended upon his with an audible smack and stayed the motion instantly.

"Are _covered,"_ the Auror informed him sternly. "Teachers who are assaulted in front of the school gates by a horde of Death Eaters and Imperiused Hogsmeaders are allowed a day off to recover, you know. Even Aurors are." She leaned back in her chair with a rueful frown. "Kingsley's written me off duty until Thursday morning. Partly it's so I can recover, but it also might be handy for me to be unarguably available if this reconnaissance mission to the Institute goes ahead. They'll need someone who knows the layout after all…"

"Wait. _What?_" Remus was instantly bolt upright. "_What_ reconnaissance mission?"

For an instant, Remus could have sworn that Tonks was smirking. "_Oops_," she said blithely with an unmistakable wink. "I _conveniently forgot_ you were asleep when Kingsley dropped by." She gazed at the ceiling with insincerely innocent eyes. " I wasn't supposed to mention that to you yet in your _weak _and _fragile_ state. Silly, silly me…"

Remus folded his arms sternly but the corner of his lip was twitching with suppressed amusement. "Oh?"

"Mmmm." Tonks shrugged with faux casualness and a barely concealed grin. "You see, I'm not supposed to tell you that Kingsley, Moody and Dumbledore have decided that we need to get inside the Institute again. They reckon we need to have a proper poke around in forbidden drawers and closed off levels and the like to see what rottenness old Denmark can show up. After all, attempting to kidnap you would imply something is in motion." She tickled his knuckles absently with her fingertips. "I've already contacted Felisha by coin and she'll meet us whenever we can arrange, hopefully with her secret way in all prepped and ready to go. Since I know the territory and the background of the case, I've been chosen to take part. And for some reason, Kingsley seemed to think that, as the only person apart from me who knows more about the layout and the staff in the Institute, you might want to come with me. But of course given how keen they seem to be to get you back into the Institute, he's afraid that sending you along might be playing into their hands." She shrugged. "Since he didn't want to upset you by excluding you, he suggested you be kept in the dark." Her smile was rueful but abruptly genuine. "However I reckon that decision should be yours not his. And since you saved my life last night, I happen to think you really _can _look after _yourself_."

Remus could not hold back the smile. "That's rather a change of heart from my determined bodyguard."

A brief hint of a flush touched Tonks' features. "No bodyguard," she said softly. "Just a friend who'll watch your back if you watch hers."

Her dark eyes met his. She smiled. He smiled.

All at once, Remus was very aware of the soft, feather light touch of her fingers against the back of his hand. Her face seemed strangely close…

And then with startling ring, the school bell echoed down the length of the Hospital wing from the open door beyond. Remus' startled jump was almost as emphatic as Tonks'; abruptly, her hand snatched itself away as her eyes snapped to the floor and stayed there. For his part, Remus found his gaze was glued to the bed-sheets as his hands grasped the white material almost compulsively.

_Sweet Merlin. What on earth was that? She's your friend, Lupin, not to mention far too young to ever…_

"Eleven," Tonks' voice, almost forcefully bright, cut across his brief moment of alarmed musing and jerked him abruptly back down to earth.

"Pardon?" he managed.

"It's eleven." Tonks glanced over at him, smiling, and suddenly his world swung back into a stable orbit and everything was as he knew it once more. "I said we'd know when the bell goes…"

"You were right." Relaxing himself almost forcefully, Remus lifted his gaze and returned the smile. "I was due to teach the fifth year Slytherins now and their stock of snide werewolf jibes is getting a little repetitive. Perhaps being in the Hospital Wing isn't so bad after all."

Tonks laughed out loud. "I was just thinking that I was suppose to be on patrol with Dawlish's team today. So I'm _definitely_ happier here."

"You'd rather be in hospital recovering from a Death Eater attack than on patrol with my good friend Mr Dawlish?" Remus arched an eyebrow. "That doesn't say much for his people skills."

Tonks snorted with mirth, her eyes twinkling wickedly. "And what about you, professor? Slandering your beloved students for expressing themselves?"

Remus shrugged easily, fighting not to laugh. "It's not the expression of their opinion that bothers me, it's the lack of imagination. Jokes about body hair and raw meat, whispered asides about moon cycles – it's so _unsubtle_. I'm thinking of teaching them a few new insults, just to vary the palate. It would make the lessons so much more _interesting_."

A snorted laugh from the doorway of the Hospital wing caught them both by surprise. "I don't think you need to worry about _that _anymore." A familiar young voice drifted in, the green eyes of its owner filled with barely suppressed humour. "You've given us all much more interesting things to discuss than your condition."

Remus folded his arms as he eyed Harry's smirk warily. Behind him, Ron and Hermione were wearing almost identical expressions of humour.

_Oh fantastic_…

Harry cocked an eyebrow as he and his two closest friends stepped into the room, pulling the door closed as he followed them in wandering over to Remus' bedside.

"Tonks. Professor," he said with a grin. "Is there something you'd like to tell us?"

Remus shot Tonks a glare. "This is _your _fault. You and Rosmerta, pretending we were a couple. I _told_ you there were students in that room."

For her part, Tonks was battling laughter. "Oh _darling_," she exclaimed melodramatically. "How could I have _possibly_ hidden what I feel for you? It was beyond all restraint!"

Remus ignored the uncomfortably prickle that ran along his spine at her words as the three Gryffindors laughed. Instead, he frowned at his students.

"Shouldn't you three be in class?" he queried wearily.

"Free period," Ron said shortly as he flopped down on the adjacent bed, Hermione and Harry at his side. "Thought we'd come and check on you two instead of faffing about in the library."

Inevitably, Hermione's eyes went stony at this cavalier dismissal of schoolwork. "Studying is not _faff_," she retorted sharply. She pointedly ignored the roll of Ron's eyes. "It just so happens that _this_ is more important."

"Thank you, Hermione," Remus' gracious acknowledgement luckily halted potential hostilities. "I appreciate that."

"And I'd appreciate some gossip," Tonks leaned forward across the bed towards the three teenagers. "Come on, spill the beans. What are they saying about good old Professor Lupin out there?"

Remus closed his eyes. "Tonks…"

Harry was chuckling. "It varies."

"Tell me the variations."

Remus sighed. "Must you?"

Tonks' expression was all innocence. "Now, professor. Surely you need to be _prepared_. Lesser men than you have been strangled by the grapevine, you know."

Harry intervened over Remus' low groan. "Well, the general consensus is that you were definitely seen going upstairs in the Three Broomsticks with a younger woman," he admitted. "And that you'd booked a room. But as soon as someone mentioned pink hair, we knew it had to be Tonks. And since you just said you were pretending, I'll guess you were there on business."

Remus nodded emphatically before Tonks could muddy the waters further. "Yes, we were."

Harry smiled. "Thought so. So I guess those rumours coming out of Ravenclaw that you were caught upstairs later with a _different _woman talking about getting…" he cleared his throat, "…well, _naked_, were just stories then like the rest of it?"

Remus wished with all his heart that he could have suppressed that blush. Tonks burst out laughing.

Harry, Ron and Hermione's eyes widened incredulously as one.

"It's _true_?" Hermione gasped, after taking a moment out to slap Ron's shoulder in order to disperse the look of misty-eyed respect on his face. "_Professor_…"

"It's not… I mean…" Remus was aware that his face was already tomato red and the pealing hysteria of Tonks' laughter was not helping to calm his fluster. "Will you _shut up_?" he snapped irritably as his companion slumped forward over her knees, still helplessly giggling. "This is _your fault_. And it's fairly serious that my secret meeting with Felisha is now _all over the school."_

Tonks' jaw snapped shut as she sobered instantly. "_Sod it_," she said with feeling. "I didn't think of that."

A light glowed on in Hermione's eyes. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "That's _it_, isn't it? Those coins I helped you with – you said they were for a contact of yours in the Institute staff. That's who you were meeting, isn't it? That's who Felisha is!"

Hermione Granger really was a _very _smart young woman. "Yes, it was," Remus admitted wearily. "And it was supposed to be top secret. Felisha could be in a lot of trouble if word she's met me in private leaks out."

But Harry was already shaking his head. "I wouldn't worry, professor. There are so many mad rumours flying around, no one's going to know one truth from another. And there isn't any kind of description of this other woman – just of Tonks." He grinned. "I guess pink hair is more memorable."

"See, I am useful," Tonks nudged Remus as her expression grew wicked once more. "I make a good distraction. And Harry, did I hear you say that mad rumours abound? Please, tell me _more_."

Harry chuckled again. "When I say mad, I mean _mad_."

"The madder the better. Talk."

Harry and Ron exchanged a long look as the red-haired Weasley took up the tale from his bespectacled friend. "Well," he began uncertainly. "There's the second woman one we mentioned – which is kind of true. But some people are also saying that the first woman – Tonks, I guess – caught Professor Lupin with the second woman and dragged him off, screaming at him. And then people started saying there had been a fight between the women and then there were three women, or four and then it started that there hadn't been a fight at all and that you'd just been in the room with a half dozen or so perfectly happy women." He shrugged apologetically, although his mouth was curling distinctly. "Well, by the end of the week, most people reckoned you'd gone off for the rest of the Easter holidays with a harem of buxom veelas and the reason you're in the Hospital wing today is because you're outright _knackered_."

Yet again, Tonks exploded with laughter. In spite of himself, even Remus cracked a smile.

"I think I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, that veelas _aren't_ my type," he remarked dryly. "I prefer my women rather more thoughtful and definitely more _human_ than that." At his side, Tonks' laughter was drying away as he continued. "Besides, I'm not sure my father would appreciate being morphed into a bevy of buxom veelas by the imaginations of a castle full of adolescents."

"Now there's a disturbing mental image," Tonks added as she leaned forwards. "But I'm kind of curious. I'd have thought word about the attack would have spread around the school like wildfire. Are you saying people don't know?"

"They know." Harry shrugged slightly. "But there's always a few, you know?"

"Which reminds me," Remus turned his gaze onto his three students. "Why on earth did you and the rest of your team come hurtling into the fray like that? You could have been _killed_, Harry, all of you. Jimmy Peakes was lucky he _wasn't_."

"Jimmy's fine," Harry protested. "Madam Pomfrey let him out first thing this morning. He's a Beater, he has worse bruises than those from our last match…"

"That's not the point. Why didn't you just go for help?"

"Ritchie Coote went for help," Ron was the one to protest. "So did Hermione."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Hermione?"

Hermione pulled a face. "I was recording their practice moves with Omnioculars as a favour for Harry. But then Ginny spotted Hagrid running across the grounds and I saw the flashes of the fight and focussed in." Her nose wrinkled. "I saw Tonks get hit. And although the wall was in the way, I was pretty sure you were ringed in. So Coote went for McGonagall and I went for Dumbledore while the others grabbed their wands and flew to help. That Kingsley and Mad-Eye were in his office too was just lucky."

Tonks twisted her lip. "Actually, they were waiting for us to report in."

Harry's eyes narrowed curiously. "Report in on what?"

But any answer was forestalled by the creak of an opening door and the gentle voice of Albus Dumbledore.

"That, Harry," he said softly, "is what Professor Lupin, Miss Tonks and I need to discuss. So I'm afraid I must ask you to leave."

**A/N**: Many thanks to my lovely reviewers – **elka78, The Great RC, Rel Fexive, thee-unknown-factor-incognito, xMissxUnderstoodx, vieras, Lucathia Rykatu, Godricgal, Smeagolita, Miracle, Siorsa, Ruby, emmaD, RebeccaGoose, Kailin, KnightMara, Howling-wolf, le petit chou, Silver Mo0n 19, a happy bibliophile, Gilpin, vefa, Wade Scott, Adele Starminster, Ella J.W, morgan, sylthian, Hawkgal, pathoffeanor, aurelie1, Liv Naravul, felixgirl **and** cellorocksmyworld **– who brighten the dull days of autumn for me. Bless you all muchly (especially now I am over 400 reviews and averaging 20 a chapter! Woohoo!) and though I can't reply specifically to all of you, I do appreciate all your reviews. :)

**A Few Responses**:

**Elka78** – I was assuming that those under the curse would be better than normal on the grounds that they were being directed forcefully. So yes, just like Neville. ;)

**xMissxUnderstoodx** – SLAP! Hello Betty…;) There's nothing wrong with being in a silly mood – it's near enough my permanent state of being! ;) And I agree – "remusy" should be a word…:)

**vieras **– Glad to help. :)

**Miracle** – It is the first time I've used non-verbal spells in a fic – as you may have noticed, I am trying to incorporate elements from HBP into my fic where possible, like non-verbal spells and the Quidditch team. As long as they don't mess with my plot, anyway…;)

**RebeccaGoose **– It's the Imperius curse that has a bad effect on a werewolf – Crucio affects them normally but they can just handle it better. Glad to feed you. ;)

**KnightMara** – Welcome back:) And don't think you're off the hook cliffie wise – that ride has barely started…;)

**Le petit chou** – AU stands for Alternate Universe – on other words, it differs from canon. This fic was canon compliant up until HBP came out but now, since it branches off in a different direction, I've declared it AU. ;) Kingsley and Tonks? I think you may be thinking of someone else's fic, it's not something I've ever implied. Kingsley was worried about his friend, that's all…:) And alas, I can't update more frequently because I can't write faster than a chapter a week on average, so posting quicker would mean bigger waits later…/

**Silver Mo0n19 -** I'm aiming for 35-40 chapters overall though this is subject to how the writing goes and whether I over write! ;)

**A happy bibliophile** – As you can see, the aftermath has been partly dealt with above. And I know I'm mean to Remus, I'm sorry, but that's kind of the plot! Does the ball squeak, did you mean? I don't think so. I've answered the chapters question above. And don't worry, this chapter is a nice rest for you. :)

**Morgan **– Hi and welcome:) Thanks very much, characterisation is something I pride myself on so its nice to hear you and so many others think I've got it right. :)

**Sylthian **– Hey, that's okay – valid point. :) I'll say it was kind of a healing spell as well as stopping the blood flow, lessening the effects of shock and that kind of thing - though in all honestly I didn't think of that. Whoops! ;)

**Hawkgal** – I'm sorry! I didn't mean to ruin anything! ;)

**Pathoffeanor** – I think it is your first and thank you very much:)

**Liv Naravul** – Hey, welcome to my part of the world:) I haven't seen GOF yet – my beta and I are going in a few weeks when I visit her. Any good:)

**Cellorocksmyworld** – Hi and welcome! Do I take it from your name that you like the cello? Only I used to play it myself at school. Mind you, I was terrible…;)

Reviews would be lovely. ;)


	22. A Simple Plan

_**22: A Simple Plan **_

It was only with a great deal of reluctance that Harry, Ron and Hermione were chivvied out of the Hospital Wing. They went slowly, with many backward glances and significant looks and when Ron, his eyes slightly shifty, began to root around in the pockets of his robe, Remus made a mental note to keep his eyes open for any signs of extendable ears. _Honestly._ Though their interest and desire to help was admirable, didn't they have enough to do with their NEWTS work?

Dumbledore was apparently thinking along much the same lines. With a knowing smile in Remus' direction, he cast an impermeable charm in the direction of the door.

Tonks laughed softly. "Suspicious of your students, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore smiled in return as he lowered himself easily into the chair on Remus' far side. "Always, Miss Tonks and rightly so. I know Harry. He has a talent for acquiring information he should not strictly speaking be privy to."

"There's an understatement." With a clunk of his wooden leg, Moody deposited himself beside Kingsley on the recently vacated bed next door. "Barty Crouch Junior may have been crazy as a loon but he was damned right when he said that lad would make a first class Auror. He's got the nose for it."

"Let's hope he keeps hold of it," Kingsley grinned as he cast a sideways glance at his companion's battered face. "He'll be doing better than you if he does."

Moody sniffed loudly and rather appallingly. "_War wounds_," he declared loftily. "Each one a source of pride. And the mark of one less lunatic on the streets."

"And speaking of which," Dumbledore interjected smoothly, "There is the matter of Abraham Kane's unexpected demise." He glanced across the bed, meeting Tonks' innocent expression with a knowing twinkle. "Can I take it, Miss Tonks, that you have already informed Remus of the plans we have set in motion?"

Tonks flushed slightly as she felt the weight of Kingsley's sudden glare. "Ummm…yeah," she admitted reluctantly. "Am I that predictable?"

Dumbledore laughed. "I would never dream of trying to predict you. But on this matter at least, I do not object. It saves us time." He turned to Remus. "You know of our intention to infiltrate the Institute?"

Remus nodded firmly. "I do. But if we are going to do this, it will have to be before Thursday night. Given the urgency of the attempt to kidnap me, I suspect after the full moon will be too late." He smiled grimly. "And of course, Thursday itself would be rather inconvenient for me unless you happen to need a scent hound."

Kingsley leapt upon his words almost before his sentence was completed. "Remus, I don't think you going is a good idea. Aside from being hit by that _Crucio_…"

"Which is no worse than I am used to on a monthly basis."

"…and your duties here at the school…"

"Which would not be affected by an evening mission."

"…there is the indisputable point that you inside the Institute is exactly what the Death Eaters appear to want."

"We don't know that they would have taken me to the Institute."

Kingsley frowned pointedly. "Remus, don't be stubborn. You know as well as I do where you would have ended up. There's no way you can convince me that Kane's death and your near-abduction on the same night is coincidental."

"And if you _could_ convince him," Moody intervened with a growl. "I'd slap him with my wooden leg for being so damned _foolish_."

"They're right, Remus," Tonks injected casually. "We all know it wasn't a coincidence. But that doesn't change the fact that you'll be coming with me."

Kingsley and Moody's expressions darkened as one. "Tonks…" Kingsley declared, his voice ripe with a note of warning but the younger Auror had already raised one hand to forestall his protests. "He knows the territory," she said, ticking off on her fingers matter-of-factly. "He knows the staff. He knows werewolves. He knows Rebekah Goldstein. And the fact that he saved my life has proved pretty categorically that he can take care of himself and even me if necessary. Even if the kids hadn't shown up, we were through that gate and away. He can cope. I'll be there to watch his back and be glad to know he's watching mine." Her voice took on a vaguely combative note. "I won't go with anyone else."

Surprised as he was by this morning's emphatic turnaround, Remus couldn't help but smile with gratitude at the young Auror as she glared challengingly across the bed at the three older men, her pale skin and dull hair almost seeming to glow with hidden inner colour. Catching his smile from the corner of her eye, he saw her lips quirk in reply.

But then Moody straightened, his mad eye whirling, his expression annoyed. "Well, then, lass. It seems we'll need a whole _new_ team to…"

"Alastor." Dumbledore's soft word nonetheless stilled Moody's torrent of rebuttal instantly. "She's right."

Kingsley was shaking his head. "If anything goes wrong, we'll be playing right into their hands…"

"I know." Dumbledore sighed, gazing down at his long fingered hands for a moment almost absently. "But little as I like it, Remus is the best choice for the task."

Remus quirked an eyebrow. "I feel I should thank you all for such a ringing endorsement of confidence in my abilities," he remarked dryly. "I feel positively Godlike."

Dumbledore's smile was almost weary. "It is not your abilities that we doubt, Remus," he replied gently. "We are simply concerned for your well-being."

"So am I," Remus admitted frankly with a slight shrug. "But if I let that stop me, I'd never get anything worthwhile done. And as I've told Tonks repeatedly over the last few months, I really don't need to be protected."

Dumbledore's smile broadened. "It appears to have sunk in."

The glance that Tonks directed at Remus was rueful. "Eventually."

Remus smiled at her again. Tonks smiled back.

"So." The Headmaster straightened in his chair as he drew attention back to business. "We have established our team. What we now need to know is how and when."

Tonks leaned forwards over Remus' bed. "I had as good a chat as I could manage with Felisha by coin." She smiled wryly. "It can be a bit limited when you can only have 30 characters per sentence but we got our messages across. She says she'll meet us when we need her behind the Three Broomsticks with her way inside; today, tomorrow or Wednesday is fine as long as it's at night. She reckons she can get us a portkey…"

"Wait," Kingsley raised a forestalling hand. "That wouldn't work. I've studied as much as I can about the Institute's defences and it doesn't just have anti-apparition wards – it's warded against portkeys and floo connections too. The whole design is intended to insure that nobody enters or leaves except through the front door. A portkey would be useless."

Tonks shook her head. "Felisha was pretty emphatic. I think she might have found a way around that."

Moody's grizzled features contorted into suspicion. "Are you sure this Felisha can be trusted?" he growled. "It'd be a fine lookout for you two to escape a Death Eater ambush but then portkey yourselves into a cell in the Institute through a lack of vigilance."

Remus and Tonks exchanged a long glance. "I trust her," Remus said softly.

Tonks nodded her agreement. "So do I."

Moody's expression eloquently proclaimed that he was unconvinced. "What about these coins?" he continued insistently. "Pretty haphazard communication if you ask me. How do you know Felisha isn't lying dead somewhere and that you're conversing with a Death Eater?"

Remus sighed. "Alastor, I understand your concern but I did think of that. When Hermione and I created the coins, we charmed them so that only the first three people to touch them could use them; those three people were Tonks, Felisha and me. You can try one if you like but it won't do a thing for you."

Moody's wild blue eye rolled but he did not accept the challenge. "I'm not convinced," he repeated grimly instead. "This is a big risk. And Lupin, I still say you'd do better to stay behind."

Dumbledore mercifully intervened. "We have been over that, Alastor. And unless she has changed greatly since her school days, I do not believe Felisha Hathaway is likely to have become a Death Eater."

Moody glared blackly. "Nobody thought Pettigrew was either. Look how that turned out. If there's one thing I've learned in twenty years of constant vigilance, it's that Death Eaters can be almost _anyone_."

Remus felt his fists clench at the mention of Peter… of _Wormtail's_ name. _Don't think about him, this is not the time. You've more important things to do than dwell…_

And then he felt soft and gentle fingers close soothingly around his fist. Tonks smiled at him wanly, her small hand saying louder than any words that she understood his thoughts.

She really was a wonderful friend…

"All right, fine." Moody's harsh exclamation snapped Remus' attention back to the conversation. "We trust the girl and her portkey. I just hope we don't live to regret it."

Kingsley's expression of mild scepticism implied he was on Moody's side. But instead of taking up the argument, he simply shrugged. "I suppose that just leaves us to establish when you go. Tonight or tomorrow would seem logical – it leaves less time to be found out and it's further away from the full moon for Remus…"

But Tonks was shaking her head once more. "Wednesday."

Remus has been inclined to agree with Kingsley – he didn't fancy a tiring excursion on the night before his change. "I understand not going tonight," he remarked, ruefully picking at his bedclothes as he glanced pointedly out across the Hospital Wing. "But why not Tuesday?"

Tonks smiled slightly. "Because Felisha told me that Rebekah will be out of the Institute on Wednesday. It's her daughter's birthday and she heard her tell Croll that she's going home for the night to the party."

Moody's eye spiralled irritably. "More _hearsay_?"

Tonks glared. "I am an Auror too Mad-Eye!" she retorted abruptly. "I don't just take hearsay as fact. I checked the school's record of next years enrolments and it _is _the birthday of one Julia Goldstein on Wednesday."

"And I think Rebekah would go." Remus' quiet statement cut across Moody's half started protest. "Whatever else she may be, she cares deeply about her family."

Tonks' snort was incredulous. "_Most _of them," she added pointedly.

Remus twisted his lip but said nothing. There really wasn't much he could add to dispute that.

"So that's it then." Kingsley leaned forward with a sigh. "That's our plan. We rely upon a woman we aren't sure we can trust to provide a portkey that might not work so that two Order members who have barely recovered from an ambush can transport themselves into the midst of a place we know contains Death Eaters who want them either dead or in custody to search for evidence that may not even be there. Does that sound about right?"

Tonks smiled dryly. "Yep. Good summary."

Moody gave a crooked frown. "You're taking my invisibility cloak. No arguments."

Remus raised his hands. "No protests. Thank you Alastor."

Tonks was rooting in her robes, now purged of blood and draped across the neighbouring bed. "I'll let Felisha know. We'll meet her on Wednesday at midnight."

"Then it seems we are done." In one smooth motion that belied his vast age, Dumbledore rose from his chair. "I would be lying if I claimed that I am fully comfortable with this plan. But the need for action in this case is clear. Thank you all for your help." He smiled slightly. "Now if you would excuse me, I shall go and persuade Harry and his friends to cease their futile attempts to listen at the door."

"And I'd better get back to the Ministry," Kingsley also rose fluidly. "Tonks, I've booked you into a room at the Three Broomsticks. I don't expect to see you at work before Thursday afternoon. Understood?"

With a flourish of her hand, Tonks gave a mock salute. Smiling in spite of himself, Kingsley followed Dumbledore towards the door.

With a creak of his wooden leg, Moody was the last to rise. "I expect you two to take care," he barked gruffly. "Especially you, Lupin. I don't want to be the one explaining to Rey that I let his only son walk into a trap."

Remus nodded with a small smile. "Then I'll make sure you don't have to."

Moody pulled a face at what he clearly viewed as blatant over optimism. But then, with a brusque nod, he too took his leave.

As the Hospital Wing door closed behind the grizzled old Auror, Tonks turned to Remus, twirled her silver sickle between her fingers and grinned.

"Well mate," she said cheerfully. "It looks like we're in for an interesting week."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Monday passed in quiet contemplation in the Hospital Wing. Tuesday and Wednesday passed in a flurry of students and classes.

It was strange how quickly three days could vanish into memory with something to dread at the end of them.

It was not that Remus was nervous, precisely. After all he had volunteered for this mission, practically insisted on his inclusion in fact. But Moody and Kingsley's warnings had fallen on stubborn ears, not deaf ones – and although Remus was still quite certain that he was the best person for this mission, that did not alter his suspicions that he was walking, dressed in lambs wool, into the heart of the lion's den. He would be much happier when all this was over.

His lessons passed in a blur. Harry's assertions about the rumours had proved unfortunately correct – Remus had endured his fair share of jokes, giggles and expressions of amusement mingled with respect and disgust tinged mockery in the corridors and classrooms of the school. He had fronted it out the only way he knew how; with a smile, joining in the joking, shrugging off the sneers, making it nothing but laughter, pretending not to care. After all, showing embarrassment in front of Harry and his friends was one thing; but blushing in front of the rest of the student body was quite another. It was tantamount to a _confession_.

The only exceptions to this new, rumour-fuelled attitude towards him were Harry, Ron and Hermione. They smiled at him in corridors and acted normally in classes but the looks in their eyes rang with unspoken curiosity and silent questions that Remus could almost read. Why was he ambushed? What had he been intending to report? What had been said in his Hospital Wing meeting with his fellow Order members? Just what was going on?

But Remus ignored the questions, dodged their attempts to catch him alone and did his best to act as though nothing at all was afoot. Filling his three students in on the Imperius plot had been one thing. Worrying them yet again about his safety for no good reason was quite another.

And so the sun set, darkness fell and Wednesday evening rolled into his life with quite unseemly haste.

Gritting his teeth against the lingering taste of Wolfsbane in his mouth, Remus checked his watch again as he hurried the final few yards out of the alley behind Dervish and Banges and away from the now concealed entrance to the secret passage he had followed from a suit of armour near the Hogwarts kitchens. Moody's invisibility cloak whispered and swirled at his every motion – Remus was taking no chances on fresh rumours about his midnight visits to the ladies of Hogsmeade, especially given that Tonks was currently ensconced there – as the tightly controlled ball of flame in his right palm lit his way unseen to outside eyes. It was five minutes to midnight.

Hogsmeade was oddly disconcerting by night, sparking vague and uncomfortable memories of wolfish roaming with his friends. Unnaturally silent, it lurked in the night, the black silhouettes of eaves and shop signs lit only by flashes of the heavily bloated moon between slivers of roaming cloud. The normally glowing lights of the Three Broomsticks were extinguished and invisible – only a hint of lantern light behind an upstairs window implied any sign of life. The yard behind was a wash of shadows, the well a dull black outline, a lone bush swaying gently in a pulsing midnight breeze. In the distance, an owl hooted, its call echoing across the night with unexpected clarity.

And there was no one there.

Frowning, Remus checked his watch once more. Three minutes to midnight. He could have sworn Tonks said…

"Ow!"

The cry was muffled but the dull thump of something soft hitting hard wood gave it emphasis. The knob of the Three Broomsticks small back door rattled sharply.

Smiling slightly to himself, Remus hurried over and pulled the door open. Much as expected, he found a dishevelled and irritable looking Tonks slumped in a heap at the foot of the narrow stairs, rubbing her elbow and swearing under her breath. Her eyes darted up sharply.

"What the…" she started.

_The cloak._ "It's me," Remus murmured softly in immediate reassurance. "Are you all right?"

Tonks' expression flashed with relief as her smile grew wry. "I _hate_ those stairs," she muttered in response. "They're a bloody health hazard. Rosmerta should…"

But her sentence dropped sharply away at the sound of a creaking door and the voice of the landlady herself.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Mrs Cornworthy. Probably just the wind…"

"Sod it!" Scrambling on her hands and knees, Tonks was moving instantly. Groping into the emptiness, her hand caught upon the edge of the cloak – before Remus had even realised what was happening, she had ducked underneath and joined him in concealment, her small body pressing against his as she shoved him quickly backwards and out of the doorway, clinging to his arm for balance. Remus caught her waist as she stumbled, fighting a fresh surge of bewildering discomfort at her closeness as they both froze, breath held and still.

Rosmerta's hair-rollered head peered thoughtfully out of the darkness of the entrance. Her eyes fell upon the door, flapping gently in the breeze; catching it in one hand, she shrugged.

"Just a loose door, Mrs Cornworthy!" she called back up the stairs, stepping backwards as she pulled it closed. "Nothing to worry about…"

The door clicked shut. Silence fell once more.

Remus felt Tonks release her breath with a windy sigh. She chuckled softly.

"Bit close," she remarked wryly. "Definitely too close in fact."

Remus withdrew his hands instantly and stepped away, although within the limits confines of the cloak, distance was difficult to achieve. "I'm sorry, I thought you might fall…"

The look that flashed across Tonks' face by the light of his flickering flame was one of downright frustration. "I meant _Rosmerta_," she stressed irritably. "Honestly Remus, when are you going to realise…"

But Remus never learned what Tonks expected him to realise. For in that instant, as the distant cloak of the Owl Post office chimed midnight, Felisha Hathaway staggered out of the empty night, shaking her head and grasping something white and glassy securely between her fingers. She caught the edge of the well for balance and breathed deeply.

"I _hate _portkeys," they heard her mutter.

Exchanging a glance with Tonks, Remus extinguished his flame and stepped out from beneath the cloak into the silver moonlight. A moment later, Tonks appeared beside him, Moody's cloak wrapped over one arm. She followed him quickly to Felisha's side.

"Okay?" At his gentle query, Felisha glanced up and smiled. Pulling herself upright, she nodded.

"Fine," she murmured quietly. "Just a bit shaken. Fiddling with the charms on this thing hasn't made for the smoothest ride."

Tonks was examining the opaque, glassy sphere gripped within Felisha's hands. It was reminiscent of the globe lights they had last seen in the Institute.

"How did you get that to work?" she inquired curiously. "A friend of mine had it on good authority that portkeying in or out of the Institute wasn't possible."

"It isn't, by ordinary portkey." Passing the sphere to Remus, Felisha took a moment to straighten her robes. "That's an emergency portkey. We have one hidden as a light on each level; the idea is that if the residents ever rebel, a member of staff can take a portkey and instantly alert the Ministry and the Werewolf Capture Unit in person. They have a special element within them that allows them to pass through the wards. They take you directly to the Fountain of the Magical Brethren."

Remus frowned as he rubbed his fingers across the smooth surface. "That seems a little dangerous. What if a resident got hold of it?"

Felisha shrugged slightly. "Only Alpha and Beta clearance staff know where the portkeys are - Aylward changes the locations monthly – and they can only be activated by a wand so the residents would have to get hold of one to use it. And besides…" Even by moonlight, Remus could see the hints of her blush. "They are charmed so that only _full_ _humans_ can use them. That was why it took me a little while to prepare it. I had to alter the charm so that you could use it too without rendering it useless and that took me quite a while."

Remus winced slightly at being described as not fully human but he knew that Felisha had not intended a slight. "That must have been quite an effort. Thank you."

She smiled in return, warm, sincere. "Don't mention it."

Tonks' voice cut into the pleasantries with a hint of impatience. "Hasn't anyone missed it?"

Felisha shook her head. "I told maintenance that I'd broken a globe in my room and asked for a replacement. Then I swapped the ordinary globe with the portkey on Level One. Aylward won't be changing the locations for another week yet. No one will miss it before then."

"What about the destination?" Remus knew that Tonks was not looking for flaws in the plan – she was an Auror doing her job – but he couldn't help but wish that she could ask her questions in a slightly less interrogatory manner. "I'm not sure Remus appearing in the middle of the WCU would be a good idea."

Felisha smiled slightly. "I thought the same. That's the other thing that took a while. I've changed the base destination to my office and then charmed it to bring me here. If you use it again from elsewhere, it will take you to my office and return you to wherever you came from." She grinned. "It's a good thing my dad worked in the Portkey Regulation office for so many years. He used to bring his work home with him."

"Impressive work." To Remus' relief, Tonks smiled again, although the expression looked wan in the pale light. "Well then." She hefted the cloak. "I guess we'd best get on with this."

Felisha's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Is that an invisibility cloak?"

Tonks nodded. "I borrowed it from a colleague. Remus and I didn't think being seen would be a bright idea. Speaking of which, we'd better get under."

With a nod, Remus ducked his head as he joined Tonks beneath the swath of cloth. Only one hand each remained visible and, to judge by the expression on Felisha's face, they made rather an odd sight.

"Hands on then," she said quietly. "To activate the portkey, you tap it three times with your wand. Okay?"

Tonks murmured an affirmative as her hand joined Felisha's and Remus' against the round orb. For a moment, Remus stared at Felisha's face, her curls washed in silver, her eyes dark beneath her brows and remembered Moody's words in the Hospital Wing.

_Are you sure this Felisha can be trusted? It'd be a fine lookout for you two to escape a Death Eater ambush but then portkey yourselves into a cell in the Institute through a lack of vigilance._

No. He trusted her. Everything would be fine.

Felisha's wand tapped.

One. Two. Three.

And then, with a yank at the navel, Remus hurled into the unknown.

**A/N**: Apparently, it is no longer permitted for authors to include reviewer responses within their chapters - if we have anything to say, we are now supposed to private message to signed reviews and are not able to reply to unsigned reviews at all. To say I am annoyed about this is to suggest that it may be rather on the warm side at noon in the Sahara - one of my favourite parts of posting here is my conversations with my reviewers and I rarely if ever intend my replies to be for one person's eyes only. I also have difficulty enough finding time to reply to my reviewers en masse but having to reply to each individually by private message is, alas, impossible and that I can't respond to anonymous reviews at all is even worse. I don't know why this rule has been imposed but I have to say – it disappoints me. :(

So, I've had a brainstorm about this and decided – I'm going to continue to write my responses in the same manner I have been – I just won't post them _here _anymore. From now on, my specific or more detailed review responses can be found on my live journal (the link is in my author profile – just click on my name and then on the "homepage" link) and will appear, every Wednesday, in conjunction with my posting. The advantage of this is also the ability for more than once weekly exchanges and immediate replies - I accept anonymous comments if you aren't an LJ member and widely welcome and indeed actively encourage conversations. I will continue to post here and I love coming here and finding your reviews so please don't stop posting them here; I still want to hear from you all, be it here, on my LJ or indeed both! ;) But if you have any more to say or want to start a discussion or anything, I will be posting responses and a link on LJ every Wednesday just like usual and welcome all replies and discussion on that post. Thank you all for listening. I hope to continue to converse with all of you. :)

So, in the hope that I am still allowed to at least thank you - many thanks to my reviewers this week: **sylthian, elka78, wizardelfgirl, thee-unknown-factor-incognito **(good disguise…;))**, Pickledishkiller, Gilpin, vieras, Hiro No Tsuki, Camilinha, wcoastgirl, Ruby, morgan, Kailin, le petit chou, LupinLover88, Howling-wolf, Silver Mo0n 19, Siorsa, zMissxUnderstoodx, Liv Naravul, Re Fexive, Adre, Anonymous **(that I assume to be** cellorocksmyworld**)**, Ella J W, felixgirl, Slightly So, Mandalen, YourEvilOverlord, kitkatgirl11, InsaneMonkeePirate and a happy bibliophile**. Aren't you all nice:)

For anything more specific, I'll see you on LJ. :)


	23. Under Cover

_**23: Under Cover**_

It was dark.

For an instant, Remus almost panicked. He felt himself stumble on something soft, felt Tonks' small hand grip his robes for support as they staggered out of portkey-yanked nowhere into an unknown darkness, his eyes raking in search of something, anything to confirm that this was no trap, no cell. He heard Tonks tumbling, felt her fingers grasp again but miss as her lips expelled half-breathed curse and he snatched for her with one hand, grasping his wand more firmly with the other.

_What is going on here?_

"_Lumos!_"

And then there was light. The colourful decorations of Felisha's office flooded across his vision as the globe spheres spaced around the wall glowed into life. Felisha herself gave an apologetic smile as she slipped her wand back into the sleeve of her robe; placing the portkey globe safely onto the table, she dropped her eyes to where the presumably only half visible Tonks lay tangled between cloak and rug at the foot of her desk. She looked rather disgruntled.

"Bloody hell!" she swore quietly. "Stupid place to put a rug!"

Felisha grimaced slightly. "I am sorry. And I'm sorry it was dark when we arrived. I extinguished the lights before I left in case any of my colleagues happened to see the glow and knock on the door to see why I was up so late. I should have warned you."

Certain now that they were alone and safe, Remus swept the cloak off. "That's okay," he said, carefully keeping his voice low all the same. "It was a reasonable precaution and no real harm was done.

Tonks gave him a long look of irritation. "Speak for yourself, Lupin. The bruises I can live with but the damage to my dignity is a little more terminal."

"That damage was done long ago." Smiling innocently, Remus leaned down and offered his hand to the Auror. For an instant, her eyebrow rose dangerously; but then, with a quirk of her lips, she accepted his offer and allowed herself to be hauled upright, dusting off her crumpled robes on reaching vertical.

"I hope you don't think I'm going to let you get away with that," she remarked casually as she palmed her wand. "Now is not the time, Remus, but I have a good memory. I _will _get you back."

"I look forward to it." Remus extended the cloak towards her with a flourish. "But for now, we have a job to do."

Felisha had been watching them both with a distinct edge of amusement. "Glad you remembered," she remarked with a smile. "Now, I'm going to go to my room now – if you need me desperately, follow this corridor to the blue door at the end marked _Staff Quarters_. My chambers are the second on the left. I'll leave the door unlocked just in case." Accepting their acknowledging nods, she then lifted the portkey-globe and deposited it carefully into her desk drawer. "When you're done, the portkey is in the top left drawer of my desk. Tap it three times with your wand and it'll take you back to the Three Broomsticks. Be careful. Don't get caught."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Tonks flashed a grin as she shook out the now rather crumpled invisibility cloak and draped it around her head like a wimple. Remus found himself staring at the rather bizarre sight of Tonks' hairless, bodiless face grinning wickedly at him from mid-air.

He folded his arms and raised a pointed eyebrow. "I don't suppose your father hails from Cheshire, does he?"

The Cheshire Tonks chuckled. "Kent actually. Now come on Alice. Down the rabbit hole with you."

Rolling his eyes as he smiled, Remus stepped forward and slipped under the cloak to join the Auror. The world without turned silvery beyond the shroud of translucent material as the full length Tonks appeared once more beside him, the warmth of her body pressing against his hip as they shuffled together beneath their limited concealment. Her conservatively dark and ruffled hair brushed against his cheek and nose, providing a sweet and inviting odour of fruity shampoo…

_Stop that, Lupin. Right now. Friend, friend, friend, friend_…

He clenched his jaw. "Tight quarters," he offered with as much casualness as he could muster.

He felt rather than saw her shrug of response. "I was just thinking it was surprisingly roomy."

"Are you ready?" Remus started slightly at the sound of Felisha's voice; against his side, he felt Tonks do the same. The researcher was standing by the door now, her hand wrapped bracingly around the knob. She gave a wan smile, in the direction of the wall.

"Remus?" she queried.

Remus started to nod before remembering that of course, such a gesture was useless.

"We're ready," he replied instead. "I hope you won't take it amiss if I say I hope we don't see you again tonight."

Following his voice, Felisha smiled in a more accurate direction. "As long as you don't mind me saying the same. Good luck to you both."

And then, with a deep intake of breath, Felisha pulled open the door.

Remus and Tonks were moving instantly, his arm wrapped around her waist in support as they hurried forward in tight proximity through the doorway and into the dimly lit corridor beyond. At the swish of the cloak against her hand, Felisha followed but she did not acknowledge their presence in any way, simply extinguishing the lights with a clipped "_Nox!_" and pulling the door closed behind her. Without a backward glance, she turned and strode away.

Tonks looked at Remus. Remus looked at Tonks.

The levity and awkwardness of a moment before was banished in an instant, as the full weight of their situation dawned. Here he was, standing beneath an invisibility cloak in a shadowed corridor inside the Feral Institute, about to break into his cousin the Institute leader's office in search of evidence of suspected Death Eater activity, while knowing full well that if he was captured, he would probably never see outside of these grim walls again. At his side, Tonks' expression had also melted into serious professionalism – grasping her wand firmly, she mouthed two words.

_Rebekah's office_.

Remus nodded. Slowly, quietly, they began to make their way towards reception.

If the Institute was grim by day, it was downright sinister by night. The globe lights had been dimmed to a mere glimmer, a flicker of light all but engulfed by drifting shadows and the lurking dark. The silence was deep and lingering, threatening to swallow whole even the barely heard shuffle of their footsteps. Remus was an old hand at sneaking around beneath such a cloak by night – many of his Hogwarts nights had passed beneath a silvery sheen with one or other of his fellow Marauders, seeking out secrets and managing mischief. But Hogwarts by night, even in darkness, with the brush of passing ghosts and the ever glowing eyes of Argus Filch's cat had never seemed as dark and threatening as here.

Terrible things were afoot within these walls. Remus was certain of it.

And they had to find out what. Before it was too late.

He could hear the expulsions of his breath staining the dimness beyond and the sound of his heartbeat pounding. It was too quiet…

_Careful, Remus._ _Such are the thoughts that trouble is made of_. _Better watch_…

_SLAM!_

Bugger.

Grabbing Tonks unceremoniously around the waist, Remus thrust his back against the wall as the echo of the slamming door and a flash of blue light reverberated past them to the accompaniment of a too familiar mutter. He was only just in time.

"Have it done before tomorrow… knows I've got better things to do…"

Cymone Wrigley shuffled around the corner from the dim reception chamber beyond, her round face twisted with disgruntlement as she plodded with a certain lack of grace down the corridor towards them. Her wand was thrust loosely and crookedly into the sash at her waist.

"Don't know why I bother… no appreciation for me… never get a word of thanks…"

Remus felt rather than saw Tonks stiffen against him. The cloak shifted as one hand took a grasp of silvery cloth and began to extend, fingers tensed, out in front of them.

Into Cymone's path.

It was Remus' turn to tense.

_What is she doing? If she feels us here, if she hears us_…

He could make no verbal warning, no sudden move that might be heard. Cymone was just too close…

And then she passed, her trajectory so near that the cloak whispered with the shifted air of her motion. Tonks' hand snatched down sharply and then retracted with equal speed, the folds of material closing around her fist as she sucked it back against her body, her eyes following Cymone's retreat down the dim corridor with unmistakable uncertainty. But the assistant did not turn and a moment later, she rounded a corner and was lost from view. Her mutterings faded to silence in her wake.

There was a substantial pause.

Carefully, quietly, his voice no more than a whisper of breath, Remus lowered his lips to Tonks' ear.

"What did you just do?" he queried, his voice admirably calm.

A flicker of a smile crossed Tonks' features. Without replying, she bent carefully and, after a quick check of the corridor, she extended her free hand outside of the cloak and pulled something inside. A moment later, she flourished it in front of his nose with a distinctly smug smile.

It was Cymone's wand.

"Wand-sealed drawer in Rebekah's office, remember?" Tonks' voice was just as soft but infinitely more excited. "Home of the mystery diary? I saw Cymone use her wand to open it that day which means we can now open it too. What can I say? I couldn't resist when I saw it just stuck in her belt."

"What if she'd felt you take it?"

"She didn't."

"What if she'd seen it hanging in mid air when you'd taken it?"

"But she _didn't_."

"No, she didn't." Remus gave a sudden smile. "So nicely done. Even if you did all but give me a heart attack."

Tonks' returning smile was broad. "You'll get over it. But we'd better get going. I don't think we want to be here if she misses it and comes back looking."

"Agreed."

It was a few moments' careful walking to move into the dimly lit reception area and a few steps more to reach Rebekah's door. Somehow, it seemed quite formidably sturdy.

It took Remus' only an instant's examination to assess the situation. "That's new. It's been wand sealed."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Remus ran his eyes thoughtfully across the closed door. "There's always a distinctive taste to the air around a wand sealed object. It's hard to detect unless you're looking for it but I'd know it anywhere." He smiled slightly. "Not to mention the blue flash was a bit of a giveaway."

"So she's got something to hide. It's a good thing I borrowed this then," Tonks shook Cymone's appropriated wand with a flash of a grin. "Ready?"

At Remus' nod, Tonks extended the wand. "_Liber Emitto!_" she whispered.

Blue light flared and then faded. The door clicked.

"Let's go." Tonks' hand closed quickly around the doorknob. With Remus at her side, they hurried into Rebekah's office.

"Don't close the door." Remus forestalled his partner as she reached back to close them inside. "That'll reactivate the wand seal and _Liber Emitto_ doesn't always work from both sides."

"Then you'd better keep watch." With a quick glance back, Tonks abruptly ducked out from beneath the cloak as she moved hurriedly round the edge of Rebekah's desk, stumbling slightly as she shifted to avoid knocking the pictures that rested on its corner. With a nod, Remus obeyed, shifting his shoulders beneath the concealment of the cloak as he lingered in the doorway, gazing out into the dim undulations of shadow and flicker for any sign of movement. A fresh mutter of "_Liber Emitto!_" and a new flash of blue told him that Tonks had successfully unsealed the drawer – with a quick glance back, he saw her place Cymone's wand on the desk top as she pulled the drawer open, using her own wand to light her vision. A moment later, he heard a curse.

"Tonks?"

His partner swore again. "The diary isn't here – she must have moved it. It's just that black ebony box."

"What's inside?"

"I'm just looking." Remus heard the creak of hinges. And then…

"_Oh bloody hell_."

That did _not _sound good. "_Tonks?_"

A dark head appeared over the rim of the desk. "Remus, I think you'd better come and look at this."

Remus was at her side in an instant, ducking out from beneath the invisibility cloak as he crouched at her side. The light from Tonks' wand tip was pale, casting her features into sharp relief, but there was no missing the shock and concern within her eyes. In one hand, she held a flask. In the other, there was a small, drawstring purse.

"There are papers in there," Tonks nodded her head in the direction of the now opened ebony box – following her gaze, Remus indeed spotted a neatly written sheath of documents and a small pile of scrolls heaped within its dark confines "And I think that handwriting is the same as the writing I saw in that diary. But that isn't what worries me. Smell this."

Accepting the open flask from her outstretched hand, Remus took a sniff. The foul stench seared his nostrils almost made him retch – he recoiled instantly with a gasp, risking a brief glance inside and catching a quick glimpse of a gloopy, mud like substance through the rim of the container before prudence forced him to replace the top or risk losing a substantial number of his nose hairs. Eyes watering, he stared at Tonks.

"What _is_ that?" he asked with a shake of his head. "It's revolting!"

"I can't be sure until we've got it back to Snape for testing." Tonks sighed deeply. "It's been a long time since NEWT potions and I wouldn't like to be wrong. But after seeing what's in here…" She hefted the drawstring pouch. "I think I can make a fair guess."

Gently, she extended her palm and upended the pouch above it. And Remus stared.

_Oh no. Not again_.

For lying there, glinting brown but with just a hint of redness, was a ribbon tied curl of hair.

Remus closed his eyes. "_Polyjuice_."

Tonks nodded. "That's what I reckon. And does this hair remind you of anyone?"

A wave of disbelief was rampaging through Remus' psyche. _It can't be her. It just can't be. Everything she's done, her every response to me makes sense – why would it make sense if she was not who she claimed to be?_

But yet, the colour was right. And it was her office…

"Rebekah," he whispered softly.

He saw Tonks sigh wearily as she decanted a sample of the potion into a glass vial she had transfigured from some blank notepaper. "Looks like I was right and wrong about the good Professor," she said, dropping the hair back into the purse and she replaced it beside the flask in the ebony box. "She _is _our Death Eater. She's just _not_ Rebekah Goldstein."

Remus breathed deeply. "But I don't understand. She knew so much about me. And her family…" He broke off, eyes suddenly wide. "She's been _avoiding_ her family. Ruth told me so. And she told me that she hadn't been herself lately…"

"And her sister would know best." Tonks' expression was weary. "Barty Crouch Junior convinced everyone that he was Mad-Eye for a _year_. He even fooled _Dumbledore_. With enough research and regular doses of Polyjuice, a good enough actor can be _anyone_."

Remus shook his head once more, trying to shake away the cold as his preconceptions and assumptions about the situation in the Institute came crashing down around him. "How long, do you think? As long as we've know her? Or is it more recent than that?"

Tonks met his eyes with a frown, her face pale by the dull light. "Hard to say. But we need to make sure first." She quirked an eyebrow. "For all we know for sure, this could be a patented beauty cream."

"Somehow, I doubt it." Remus ran his eyes over the ebony box, its secrets curled within its blackened grasp. "Let's take a look at these documents and then get out of here. We may be able to find out…"

But Remus' voice trailed away, his sentence unfinished. His eyes lifted to the door.

Footsteps. Coming their way.

"…Can't believe I left it here! I just want to go to sleep…"

"Sod it!" Pushing the ebony box abruptly closed, Tonks shoved the drawer back into place and sharply extinguished her wand. At her side, Remus scrambled with the invisibility cloak, dragging it quickly over both of them as they dropped to the floor and froze.

They were only just in time.

The footsteps halted at the door. There was a pause.

"I could have _sworn_ I closed this." Cymone's voice sounded slightly confused as her footsteps moved slowly into the office – Remus tried to peer round and catch a glimpse of her, but a combination of the desk and Tonks prevented a decent view. But she was approaching the desk…

Cymone's wand. It was on the desk.

_Oh sweet Merlin_.

But it was too late. Cymone had already seen it.

"There you are!" Remus caught a glimpse of a podgy hand – he heard Tonks' sharp but soft intake of breath as she too realised what was about to happen. But there was nothing they could do.

Nothing but lie still and listen as Cymone stepped out of the room and pulled the door closed. Blue light flared.

And there was silence.

Tonks stared at Remus. Remus stared back.

They did not need words. They both knew the seriousness of their situation.

The door had been closed. The wand seal had resumed. And the only wand they had to open it had gone with its owner.

They were trapped.

**A/N**: Many thanks to my reviewers this week: **Siriouslyaddicted2HP, Gilpin, aurelie1, sylthian, slightly so, EllaJ.W, Silver Mo0n 19, le petit chou, a happy bibliophile, Pickledishkiller, Kailin, Howling-wolf, Rel Fexive, Blue Pads, morgan, elka78, WMG, vieras, Hawkgal & xMissxUnderstoodx**. Bless you all. Specific responses to some of your remarks can be found on my Live Journal – just follow the links on my profile. :)


	24. Epiphany

_**24: Epiphany**_

"It's no use!"

With a huff of frustration, Nymphadora Tonks released the handle of desk drawer and rose furiously to her feet, thumping her small fist against the solid wood of the desktop in emphasis of her mood. Quills shuddered at the impact and pictures rattled against the glass in their frames, causing their Lupin and Goldstein occupants to frown and shake their fists. The Auror however, paid them no heed.

"I should never have shut the bloody thing." With a weary sigh, Tonks raked her fingers through her dishevelled dark hair and folded back into Rebekah's chair, her eyes riddled with grim defeat. "It's bad enough being trapped in here but now we can't even read the evidence we came to find!" In a tone more rich in hope than expectation, she added, "Have you had any luck?"

"None." Adding a sigh of his own, Remus turned away from the solid and firmly sealed door at which he had been prodding and deposited himself against the corner of the desk with shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. "It's a standard wand seal. _Alohamora _bounces off it, as does every other spell I've tried. The wire I transfigured to try and pick the lock melted as soon as it made contact. Short of blasting a hole in the wall with a few Reductor curses, we aren't going anywhere."

"And if we tried blasting the walls, security would be on us before we could blink." Tonks twirled her wand absently between her fingers. "Not to mention the shrapnel. I don't suppose you thought to bring your coin?" Remus solemnly shook his head and she sighed deeply. "No, me neither. Right pair of bright sparks we are." Her dark eyes lifted and found her companion's solemn gaze. "Well, that's it then. We've got no choice. We sit here until morning and pray that we can find a way to sneak out under the cloak without getting caught when Cymone or Rebekah next opens the door."

Remus smiled wanly. "That's about the size of it."

"Hoo-bloody-rah." The Auror rolled her eyes. "Because I just _love_ waiting. Ask Kingsley. I'm the nightmare companion on a stakeout."

Remus' smile was more genuine. "I can imagine."

Tonks' eyebrow rose archly. "And what is _that _supposed to mean?"

"You said you were a nightmare, not me." Stifling a yawn, Remus pulled himself upright once more. "I was just agreeing with you."

"Smug git." In spite of the insult, Tonks was smiling. "Well then, Remus. Unless you have a chessboard or a pack of cards hidden in your robes, I guess we'll have to find some way to pass the next seven or eight hours of shared confinement. So…" Her smile broadened into a grin. "I spy with my little eye…"

"…Something beginning with _no_." Remus folded his arms sternly. "James and Sirius used to drive me mad with that game in classes that bored them. It never occurred to them that not everyone in the world was a genius and some of us actually _needed _to listen to the teacher in order to pass their exams. I still believe that _something beginning with G_ was the reason Peter failed History of Magic."

"Ghost." Tonks grinned again. "Okay fine, no I Spy. Noughts and Crosses?"

Remus narrowed his eyes in mock sternness. "It is intellectually impossible for two intelligent people to play Noughts and Crosses without it ending in a draw. It took me a week and several hundred games to prove that one to Sirius in fourth year – we ended up playing on a nine by nine grid and it still came out all square. I have no desire to turn my brain to mush in pursuit of impossible victory, thank you very much."

"Misery." The grin was spreading. "All right then, Mr Intellectual. What do you suggest we play?"

Remus shrugged slightly. "How about a few hours sleep?"

Tonks chuckled. "Never heard of it."

"Then let me enlighten you." Lifting the invisibility cloak from its resting place draped over a cloak hook by the door, Remus rolled the thin material into a bundle and held it up with a dry smile. "This is called a pillow. We place it on the floor thus." Bending down carefully, Remus rested the bundle alongside Rebekah's desk and plumped it deliberately. "And then, one of us places our head against the pillow and gets approximately three hours of much needed sleep whilst the other stays awake and listens for Institute activity. And then when the three hours are up, we swap. Simple."

"Boring." Tonks shrugged slightly. "But alas, it's the best plan we've got. But if I may make an amendment?"

"By all means."

"How about the person who stays awake searches the rest of the office?" Tonks swept an encompassing hand around the small room. "I doubt we'll find anything important out in the open but it's worth a shot."

"Good amendment." Fighting a second yawn, Remus gestured to the makeshift bed. "Do you want to go first?"

Tonks shook her head. "You take it. I was able to get some sleep this afternoon in preparation for an all nighter. But I know you had classes. You must be knackered, Remus."

Privately, Remus had to admit she was right. He had managed a few catnaps throughout the day and a solid hour or two in the evening, but tiredness, fuelled by the impending moon, had been dragging at him for a while now. A little sleep would be a welcome relief.

He nodded his concession. "If you're sure…"

"I'm sure. Sleep." Tonks pointed sternly to the floor. "And in the mean time," her eyes gazed around the document and book crammed room, "I guess I'll get started."

---------------------------------

Considering that they were trapped in the very heart of a hostile institution, the next few hours passed with surprisingly little incident. The sleep that Remus managed was more than welcome, though he was a little annoyed to find, on being woken by Tonks, that she had allowed him to doze not for three hours as agreed but for five. But the Auror brushed off his scolding – he needed it more than she did, she insisted – before settling down for a few quick hours of her own. And then, picking up where she told him she'd left off, Remus took over the search of the office.

As expected, he found nothing incriminating. Most of the books were simply academic and medical tomes on lycanthropy, the notebooks, scrolls and documents plain and un-sinister research notes on the Institute's work. Remus was interested to observe that the handwriting in many of the notebooks, purportedly Rebekah's, was markedly different to the handwriting he had observed on the documents in the ebony box, perhaps another indication of her possible replacement. But other than that insubstantial evidence, there was no Death Eater plot to be found.

And so, the night passed. And the clock on the shelf struck seven.

Remus was not certain at what time of day the staff of the Institute would rise and begin their work. But he was sure it could not be long now.

He should wake Tonks. They needed to be ready to move.

But she looked so _peaceful._

His eyes fell upon the form of the sleeping Auror. She lay on her side, hands curled beneath the makeshift pillow, legs bent, hair wild, her deep and even breathing marked by the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath her robes. Her face was relaxed, serene even, as she expelled each soft breath in a rhythmic breeze, her dark and lively eyes hidden beneath a closed expanse of eyelid. Her eyelashes fluttered slightly.

Remus felt himself smile. It was strange; she had worked her way into his life so gradually, with a subtlety both unexpected and impressive for someone who, by her own admission, was about as clumsy as they came. Their friendship had grown gently, almost surprisingly, evolved from casual Order acquaintance, to comrades, to friends, to good friends, to best friends in a way that Remus would never have expected. Had anyone thought to tell him, on that summer evening so long ago, that the cheerful violet haired young Auror that Kingsley had brought along to her first Order meeting would come to mean so much to him, he would never have been able to believe them.

And it was all the stranger because, to the outside eye, they made such an _unlikely_ pair of friends. Remus Lupin, the infamous werewolf professor, prematurely aged by his condition, sneaking up with ever distressing speed upon his fortieth birthday, known for his quiet restraint, his air of calm and control; Nymphadora Tonks, Auror, metamorphmagus, vibrant and colourful, still young, so young and bright, clumsy but professional, warm and witty, ever changing without but always Tonks, just Tonks within. A wonderful, amazing young woman whose determination to befriend him still bemused him utterly.

He breathed in quietly. He had never been able to understand just why it was she took so much apparent pleasure from his company. How had he been so fortunate as to win her friendship, a friendship that meant so much to him he could not imagine life without it?

Even though he'd almost had to.

A chill touched his heart as he remembered her pale face, her limp body, the warm flow of her life's blood draining through his fingers as he clung to her possessively, protectively, amidst a circle of Death Eaters. Trapped in that terrible moment, he had barely been able to find time to consider what might have happened had she not survived the ordeal, but the aftermath had been a different story; his mind and emotions had shuddered against the edges of the hollow void that had plunged within him at mere prospect of her death on the long walk back to the school. The relief he had felt as they talked in the Hospital Wing the next morning had been all but overwhelming…

Relief. That's all that feeling had been. _Relief._

She was his _friend_.

His fingers tightened almost instinctively around the arms of the chair. In any case, it was irrelevant. She would never even consider thinking of _him_ in such a way.

_Except that she did. She does. You saw the look in her eyes that morning. And you know what she was trying to tell you earlier tonight_…

No.

Stop.

This was absurd. Even if, by some miracle of truly appalling judgement, she was to declare… _those_ kind of feelings for him, he could _never_ allow it. It wouldn't be fair on her, inflicting himself upon a life barely started, thrusting into her vibrant world the misfortune of a man worn older than his years by circumstances and the bitter losses of a life too full of pain. What right did he have to drag her down with him? What right did he have to taint her future with the scars of his past?

_There's nothing I could do about it. I couldn't. I don't have the right._

_She deserves so much better than me_.

_Even if I_…

Remus froze. His eyes locked upon the Auror's sleeping face.

_No_. Oh no. Don't think that. Don't think it.

_Friend. She's your friend. Nothing more. And that's all she'll ever be_.

That's all you can let her be.

Don't think. Don't think. Don't think that you might...

Her eyes, dark and depthless, so full of joy, of light, of _her_. Her voice, laughing, joking, having fun as a simple conversation between them seemed to take off, to _fly_, all unbidden and of its own accord into soaring realms beyond their expectations. The pain he had felt when he thought she might be lost forever….

_I love her._

_Oh Merlin. I thought it._

Remus closed his eyes. He was such a _fool_.

It had been there, for so long. And so long he had hidden from it, fled from it, even unconsciously fought against it, anything to keep him from acknowledging to himself what his subconscious had known all along. The word _friend_ had been a barricade and he had settled behind it, for he knew that the moment he looked past it, he would be all undone.

But he had looked past. And now he knew. Staring down at her peaceful face, the dreaded words stained the silence of his mind and entrenched themselves utterly. And he could not fight it anymore.

Denial had been better. There was friendship in denial, friendship that dulled the sting of pain. But now even that friendship would be tainted because he knew too well that such feelings could never be allowed to air.

She deserved better. She needed better. Yes, he loved her. And that was why he knew that he could never, ever be so selfish as to wreak her life by acting on those feelings.

Friendship had been enough until now. It would have to stay enough. And could never tell her. He could never let her realise that he…

"Do I have something on my face?"

Remus started violently as he found himself staring suddenly into the Auror's dark and very much open eyes. The corners of lips curled lazily upwards.

Flustered, he fought to regain his composure as he hurriedly quelled the intimate, emotional thoughts in which he had foolishly indulged. "Pardon?" he managed to gasp.

"My face?" Brushing her dishevelled hair out of her eyes, Tonks stretched slightly as she pulled herself up to sitting. "You've been staring at me for more than five minutes. I could _feel _it."

"I…" Remus prayed heartily in order to subdue his rising blush. "Sorry, Tonks. I was just considering whether to wake you and I guess my mind must have…_wandered_." He took a deep breath. "I didn't mean to stare."

Tonks giggled disconcertingly. "Curses," she said cheerfully. "And there, I thought you were entranced by my overwhelming beauty."

_Oh Gods_. This time the blush was unstoppable; Remus could feel it swelling like a wave across the sand. Desperate to hide, he rocketed almost frantically out of the chair, sweeping around the far side of the desk as he clenched his fists and fought frantically to keep a measure of calm within his voice.

"The staff will be up soon," he said, his words tumbling one over the other in a desperate rush to be expelled. "We'd better start getting ready to…"

"Remus?"

It was her tone that made him turn. For her tone told him that hadn't fooled her in the slightest.

_She knows me too well. I shouldn't have let her_…

"What was that face?" she asked softly. She was on her feet now, standing next to the desk, her robes crumpled, her expression a mixture of confusion and seriousness. Her eyes burrowed into his with an intensity that frightened him, searching, pleading.

_No. I can't. Please, I can't._

Denial had served him well enough in the past – it was time to fall back upon it.

"What face?" He smiled wanly. "It's the same face I've always had."

"I'm serious." The smile fled. "It is the same face you've always had, Remus. And that's why I know it well enough to tell when something's wrong."

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

"That's not true." She was walking towards him now, one slow step after another, shrinking the space between them with every soft footfall. "I made a joke, just like I always make jokes. And you went strange on me. Why?"

"You surprised me when you woke. That's all."

"No, it isn't." His back was against the door now and just inches away, she halted, her face tilted slightly as she continued her intensive probing of his eyes. Her lips tightened. "Remus, what's wrong?"

"I…"

"Why were you staring at me?"

"Tonks…"

"Why did you blush?"

"It was nothing."

She was shaking her head now. "You never react that way to me, Remus, _never_. You only blush like _that _around Felish…"

Her voice trailed away, the sentence unfinished and lost on the tides of silence. Within her eyed, something sparked.

Hope. Hope sparked. Hope and…

_Don't feel it. Don't hope, please don't hope. You can do better. You should do better_…

"Remus?" she whispered softly.

He tried to shake his head. "Tonks…"

She was close now, so close. Three inches, two, then a mere inch apart, her body pressing against his, her hands upon his chest, her face so near he could feel the gentle brush of her breath against his cheeks, his lips. He felt his face begin to tilt, sensed hers move in response and for a moment, her eyes seemed to fill his world. And then they fluttered closed.

_Oh sweet Merlin_. _She does_…

Their breath mingled. He felt her lips brush his, so warm, so soft…

_No!_

Panic told hold, intense, startling and for instant, it consumed him utterly. And in that instant, Remus broke their lip contact and sharply turned his head.

He heard her gasp, soft, intense, felt her fingers contract around his robes. And then, there was distance as suddenly the warmth of her touch was gone, usurped by empty coldness. He risked a glance and found her face, her expression rich with disbelief and pain over sharply rigid shoulders; sudden waves of shock and hurt hurtled out from her to crash down upon him like violent seas striking a rocky shore. Her eyes burned him like acid.

"_Remus?_" she whispered again, but this time her voice seemed to break and falter.

In that moment, all he could think of, all he could feel was finding some way to drain the terrible hurt from her eyes. He seized upon the first excuse he found.

"This… Tonks, this isn't the time," he managed shakily, peeling himself off the door as he forced himself to stand upright. "We're trapped in the middle of the Feral Institute; someone could come at any minute…"

"That's just an excuse and you know it." The lash of her voice slapped away his hesitant words. "What is this, Remus?" Her jaw was trembling, though whether it was powered by rage or sadness, Remus could not begin to guess. "You _know _how I feel about you," she told him, her voice dropping to barely a murmur as it shivered beneath the weight of her emotions. "I couldn't have made it plainer if I'd grabbed you by the front of your robes and shaken some sense into you! And if just now told me anything, it's that _you_ feel the _same way_. So why the _hell _did you pull away from me?"

"I shouldn't have… It was a foolish…"

"Stop it." She snapped across his stumbling sentence. "Remus Lupin, if you even dare to deny it…"

Remus hardened his jaw. "This is ridiculous…"

"Isn't it just? So perhaps you should stop being so _stupid_ about this! Why did you pull away from me?"

"It's not the time…"

"Why did you pull away?"

"I shouldn't have…"

"Why did you pull away?"

"It wasn't appropriate…"

"_Tell me the truth!_"

"_I can't!_"

The echoes of those final words were consumed by sudden silence. Chest heaving, Remus stared down at the tousled, furious woman staring up at him and felt suddenly older and tireder that he had ever done before.

"I can't," he repeated softly, a hint of a plea creeping into his voice. "And this _isn't the time_."

Her voice was shaking now. "It works for me."

He shook his head. "Tonks…"

She shivered as her eyes drilled into his. "I love you, Remus," she said simply. "Do you love me?"

He stared at her. She stared at him.

The silence stretched eternally.

_I can't say it. How can I say it? How can I do that to her?_

_How can I be so selfish?_

_I can't_.

_Can I?_

His lips parted. But what words they were to speak were a mystery even to him..

And he was never to know. For then, he heard it.

Whistling. Someone was whistling.

Someone _outside the door_.

The silence shattered. The moment vanished.

Tonks was moving instantly, grabbing the bundle of cloak from the floor as she whipped it up and over both their heads – Remus flattened himself beside her against the wall, his wand grasped firmly as blue light flared across the doorframe.

And then the door opened. And in bustled Cymone.

There was no hesitation. Moving as quickly and quietly as they could manage, Tonks and Remus slipped side by side out of the door and fled into reception.

They did not speak a word as they rushed down the corridor, did not speak or talk or even look at each other as they hurried into Felisha's office, scrambled in her desk drawer and grabbed the globe portkey together. Tonks wand tapped three times.

One. Two. Three.

And then, they were back in the yard of the Three Broomsticks, dawn light staining the pale sky that lurked along the mountain ridges. In the distance, there were voices.

"Here."

Something cold and hard pressed into Remus' palm. He looked down.

It was the vial of suspected Polyjuice.

He looked at Tonks. But she did not meet his eyes again.

"You'd better take it to Snape," she said softly. "I'll head back to Grimmauld Place to brief Kingsley and Moody." Her eyes flickered briefly, brushing his face before lowering again. She did not smile.

"See you soon," she said.

And then, still grasping the portkey, she ducked out from beneath the cloak, turned on the spot and was gone.

For a moment, Remus could only stare at the empty air that had a second before contained the woman he now knew he loved. And he sighed.

Because he knew, he knew too well, that nothing between them would ever be the same again.

**A/N**: I say this to all R/T shippers, all anti-R/T shippers and all gen lovers - for this can apply to you all….

runs for cover

_Please don't hit me_! ;)

To judge by your reviews, you didn't really believe I was going to do that, did you? Yeah, me neither… ;) I must admit – this chapter did not turn out entirely how I had intended. My original intention was a quiet and slightly tragic contemplation with a perhaps weary conversation – but instead Remus and Tonks, as is typical of the gits when I write them together, completely took over and decided they were going to have a _fight_. So I apologise for the angst but don't blame me for it – they did it all by themselves! ;)

For my review responses, check out the link on my profile. :)

But all the same - many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week - **thee-unknown-factor-incognito, Rel Fexive, Camilinha, jumphighly, vieras, aurelie1, Siriuslyadditcted2HP, Ella J.W, Oath of Feanor, Howling-wolf, emmaD, Pickledishkiller, Sky Pad, Slighty so, morgan, Siorsa, le petit chou, Ruby, sylthian, Will O' the Wisp, mercutio-rane, InsaneMonkeePirate, felixgirl, Kailin, LupinLover99, Mandalen, Gilpin, Niham **&** kitkatgirl11**, all of whom are, of course, adorable. :)


	25. The Die is Cast

**A/N**: Brace yourselves ladies and gents, for this is a big one! This chapter is what I have always called the "ignition" chapter - the chapter that kicks off the massed and drawn out rollercoaster finale of Imperius...;)

_**25: The Die is Cast**_

"Well of _course_ it's Polyjuice Potion, Lupin!" With a disdainful sneer, Severus Snape deposited the vial of foul liquid on the desk in front of him, his dark eyes flicking across the fellow professor who stood in front of him with undisguised irritation. "I would have thought even someone of your renowned incompetence with potions would have been able to tell that!" He shook his head with a flurry of greasy hair. "For this you keep me from breakfast!"

Remus successfully resisted the urge to roll his eyes but it was a close run thing. He had arrived back at Hogwarts not long before, forcing his mind to concentrate on _business, business, business_ and with that firmly and forcefully in the forefront of his mind, he had made his way down into the castle's depths to the dungeon office of the Potions Master. To say that Snape was not pleased to see him was to suggest that it might perhaps be unlikely to expect a Dementor to wander up to a Patronus and give it a warm embrace; the Head of Slytherin had regarded his request for a second opinion with sneering annoyance and, after snapping about the inconsiderateness of interrupting a man on his way to eat, had ushered Remus inside with a sweep of his robes and all but snatched up the vial for inspection.

And now the inspection was complete and the worst confirmed.

However foul temperedly.

"Tonks was fairly certain," Remus' reply was level, as he determinedly ignored the twinge that the thought of his… _whatever she was now_ induced. "But considering the implications, we felt it important to be sure."

"Ah yes. Miss Tonks." There was a cruel twist to Snape's slight smile. "Considering the number of spilled ingredients and sliced fingers she achieved in my classes, it's a miracle that she _survived _NEWT potions let alone _passed_ it. I can see why her word would not be sufficient proof."

Remus battled a flare of indignation. He was tired, confused and worried and the last thing he needed at the moment was a sniping session with Severus Snape. "I don't know," he replied coolly. "Given your legendary _tolerance_ of clumsiness, I would have said it was a credit to herthat she passed NEWT potions in spite of having _you _for a teacher."

Snape's eyes narrowed coldly. "Feisty this morning, aren't we Lupin?" he retorted with a drawl. "Is moonrise coming early perhaps?"

Remus cocked an eyebrow. "At least I have an excuse."

The corners of Snape's mouth curled minutely. "Indeed. Your great _excuse_," he drawled dryly. "The excuse that you wield like a club to gain sympathy and understanding from the gullible and to loftily disdain those who'd dislike you perfectly well even without it. Hide behind your lycanthropy if you want to, Lupin. It saves you the trouble of being a _man_."

Given the argument he had been forced to use to deflect Tonks less than an hour before, Remus was definitely _not_ in the mood for this. "Just as you lash out from behind your Dark Mark?" he retorted archly, abandoning any last pretence at politeness as the tumult of emotions still tumbling within him sought out this newfound vent. "At least I didn't _choose_ my curse."

Any hint of pleasure on Snape's face was instantly washed away. His dark eyes flared. "That isn't what _I've_ heard," he lashed back.

_Of for the love of…_ "What are you talking about?" Remus' reply was a mixture of irritation and weariness. "Severus, I'm not in the mood…"

"The Howling." Those two brusque words scattered the remains of the dismissive sentence into dust. "You chose your curse then – or so I'm told."

Silence, deep and echoing, settled across the stony dungeon. Remus stared at Snape as the Potion Master's smirk slowly but steadily spread once more as the upper hand returned to his control.

"Nothing to say, Lupin?" he drawled quietly. "Oh dear, oh dear."

Steeling himself, Remus shook away the shock and forced himself to speak.

"How do you know about that?" he whispered sharply. "Who told you?"

Snape chuckled, a cold and humourless sound as he abruptly turned and swept past Remus in the direction of the door. "I have my sources. Lupin the _feral_. I was _intrigued_."

Remus turned sharply on his heel to face Snape's retreating back. "I _wasn't_ feral."

"So you say." Snape's long pale fingers curled around the doorknob. "Others think differently."

"_What _others?"

Snape glanced back over his shoulder with a distinct sneer. "Others whose opinions matter rather more than _yours_. Honestly, Lupin. You really should take more care with your secrets. You can be terribly _indiscreet_."

Remus took a deep breath as he forced some measure of calm into his voice. "Severus," he said softly. "What do you _know_?"

A slight smile. "_Enough_. Now if you'll excuse me…"

Fingers turned the doorknob. Remus half started forward, determined to get some measure of truth out of Snape about the source of his information, but before he had taken two steps, the door Severus was holding vibrated sharply with the powerful percussion of a double knock. Both men started slightly; but after a moment's pause, Snape's customary frown slipped back into position as he sharply yanked the door open.

Minerva McGonagall stepped abruptly through the doorway onto the stone step. Her hat was slightly askew and she looked a little out of breath.

"Ah, Severus!" she exclaimed at once. "Albus needs you to…" Her voice trailed off as her eyes fixed upon the form of Remus frozen in surprise a few yards away. "Remus!" she exclaimed in surprise. "Why, I didn't know you were back! How did it go?"

Remus fought not to wince. "Not as well as it could have done," he admitted ruefully. "But we did find…"

"You came here to see _me_, Minerva?" Snape's interruption was impatient as he swept back down the stairs. "Is there something I can do for you?" He shot a disdainful glance in Remus' direction. "After all, I was hoping to reach the breakfast table _before_ I died of old age."

"I'm afraid breakfast will have to wait." Minerva stepped forward brusquely. "Albus has gone to the Ministry of Magic and he needs you to join him immediately. There is to be an emergency session of the Wizengamot and he needs your advice before it convenes."

"Emergency session?" It was Remus who injected his query first. "Why? What for?"

Minerva glanced from face to face, a hint of a satisfied smile touching the edges of her features. "Because we've finally had some good news, gentlemen. Bellatrix Lestrange has been arrested."

----------------------------------------------

The Great Hall was alive with chatter. It seemed that word of Bellatrix's arrest had already got around.

Harry Potter looked grimly pleased. Draco Malfoy looked sour faced and infuriated.

Neville Longbottom however, was not present at all.

As they entered the Great Hall side by side, Minerva caught Remus' lingering gaze in the direction on the Gryffindor table and gave a profound sigh.

"I've asked Professor Sprout to keep Longbottom busy in the greenhouses," she said softly, her voice barely audible above the clamour of students below. "I thought it best that he have something else to occupy his mind until we have more definite word of what's afoot."

"Good idea," Remus nodded quietly. "Do you think Severus has arrived yet?"

Minerva glanced a clock ensconced on a nearby wall. "Probably. But don't worry, Remus. He'll deliver your message to Albus."

Remus pursed his lips. It wasn't that he didn't _trust_ Snape precisely; but he knew that in such matters, the Potions Master was notorious for using his own –ahem- _judgement _on the passing of important information. He sighed. "I just wish I could have told the Headmaster about our findings myself."

Minerva's glance was stern. "Albus was very definite, Remus. You are not to leave the grounds of Hogwarts for any reason without his expressed permission." At his weary expression, she smiled slightly. "It's for the best, Remus. And besides, all available Aurors have been called in for duty; if Albus needs a first hand account, I'm certain he'll simply find Miss Tonks."

Remus pictured the look on Tonks' face on receiving that summons to duty after a night on Order business – he could just imagine the weary sigh, the flash of indignation behind her eyes, the irritable flickers of her expression…

_Business, Lupin. You made your decision and she deserves to know where things stand. Don't do her the discourtesy of not sticking to it_.

"Remus? Did you hear what I just said?"

He cursed himself as Minerva's quiet query exposed the fact that he had drifted off. _Focus_…

"Sorry Minerva." He made himself smile. "I was just thinking about something. What were you saying?"

Minerva's eyebrow lifted sternly against the echoing tap of her heels against the stone floor. "I said, what was going on between you and Snape just before I arrived? You could have cut the air in that room with a knife, Remus."

Remus immediately shook his head. "It was nothing. It doesn't matter. Severus was just being Severus."

The staff table loomed in front of them, half full with colleagues – Remus started towards his usual chair but Minerva's fingers closed around his arm and forestalled him.

"That was more than your usual banter," the Head of Gryffindor muttered softly. "Tell me the truth, Remus."

Remus sighed deeply as he glanced around to ensure that no one was lurking within earshot. "He surprised me," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper of breath. "He knew something that I didn't expect him to know – something that isn't really known outside of the Feral Institute. And since we have a Polyjuice impostor there, finding out who told him might be… _significant_."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "But being Severus, he wouldn't tell you?"

Remus nodded curtly. "Exactly."

The Deputy Headmistress sighed. "I'll speak to Albus when he returns," she said, her expression pointed. "If anyone can persuade Severus to talk…"

"Snape won't appreciate it."

"I don't much care." Minerva's features locked sternly. "His role is to provide information and I intend to see to it that he…"

But her sentence was not destined for completion.

"Professor McGonagall! _Professor Lupin!_"

It was as though silence had exploded through the Great Hall, vivid and abrupt, stilling chatter in a sharp edged wave of soundlessness as a mass of heads turned to stare up at the doorway all as one. But Hagrid seemed oblivious to the weight of eyes as his vast form lumbered down the stairs and onto the floor of the hall with speed surprising for his bulk, his bearded face red and puffing with exertion, his stare filled with outright alarm. His beetle black eyes fixed at once upon the two professors whose names he had just proclaimed as he made an instant beeline for them.

Remus was already moving, Minerva a mere step behind – out of the corner of his eye, Remus caught a glimpse of Harry rocketing to his feet as well but had no time to turn with a reprimand. "Hagrid?" he exclaimed instead. "What's wrong?"

"Remus!" The half-giant expelled his name between gasping breaths as he staggered to a halt in front of them, bending near double as he waved one desperate hand across the air. "Remus, yeh've gotta get out'o'ere!"

_What?_ "Hagrid, what are you…"

"No time!" The gamekeeper snapped the rest of his words away as he gestured emphatically towards the door. "They're comin'! I tried to stop 'em, tried to slow 'em down but they wouldn't 'ave it! I told 'em their charges were a load o'dung but they wouldn't listen! That bloody Umbridge has sighed their warrant an' they wants yer! They can take yer! Yeh've gotta go, Remus! _Now!_"

_Warrant? Oh no, oh no, no, no_…

Darting forward, Remus grasped one of Hagrid's beefy arms, his eyes wide, his heart racing. _Don't be, please don't be_…

"Hagrid," he gasped hurriedly. "Do you mean the Feral Inst…"

"_Remus John Lupin_."

Too slow. Too late.

Remus slowly closed his eyes. He did not need to look to know the voice that echoed the length of the Great Hall, intoning his full name with a mixture of smugness and disdain. "Oh no," he whispered in soft, weary despair.

_Croll. Arcadius bloody Croll._

This was not going to be pretty.

Sickness welled in the depths of his stomach. If this was what he suspected it was, if this was a legal warrant…

_This is it. I can fight off an ambush. But fighting off the law? A werewolf defying the Ministry in front of a thousand witnesses?_

_I'll be lucky if I only get life in Azkaban._

He had to hand it to Rebekah – or whoever had become Rebekah. They had played their final hand to perfection.

The staccato tap of Minerva's heels roused him from his distraction as his former Head of House brushed past his shoulder, her Scottish brogue ringing out across the hall with clipped and merciless indignation.

"And who exactly are you?" The Deputy Headmistress' voice was set at the precise intonation and pitch that had left generations of young wizards quaking like jelly in her wake. "And what gives you the right to stroll uninvited into this school?"

Slowly, reluctantly, Remus turned. There was Croll, tall and straight, poised on the highest step of the descent into the Great Hall as he gazed down with a combination of superior disdain and smirking triumph at the rows of shocked student faces and the furious expression of Minerva McGonagall as she covered the length of the floor in dangerous, deliberate strides. One hand brandished a scroll like a weapon; the other toyed with his wand with almost mocking casualness. Flanking him on either side, blank faced, burly and brutal, six men bearing the insignia of the Werewolf Capture Unit glared down, their fingers stroking armaments.

Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

_Give Croll his due. He doesn't do things by halves_.

It was not until Minerva had reached the foot of the steps, languishing all but in the shadow of Croll's expansive nose, that the researcher deigned to reply.

"I am Arcadius Croll." Straightening his shoulders with a slick smile, Croll's voice flowed smoothly across the suddenly silent Great Hall. "Chief Medical Officer of the Feral Institute of Great Britain. And this…" he flourished his scroll, "gives me the right to be wherever _he_ is." One bony finger directed itself to where Remus stood, picking him out as though to pin him like a butterfly to card. His oily smile spread. "And on the authority of the Ministry of Magic, I must inform you that I have permission for the use of _full magical force_ against the good Professor or any who interfere in the _lawful _completion of my duties." The smile oozed into a fresh smirk as his eyebrows stretched upwards. "So may I suggest that you moderate your tone? I would certainly regret it if any…_unfortunate accidents_ were to occur."

Minerva's jaw stiffened. "Are you _threatening_ me, Mr Croll? You have the gall to walk in here and…" Her shoulders locked. "I remember you now. You were in Slytherin, I recall, about thirty years ago. Very punctual with your homework but with a habit of returning it for re-marking if you considered your teacher's comments to be _inadequate_ to your opus." An eyebrow quirked. "However, your wand work was downright sloppy. And your animal transfiguration left _a lot_ to be desired…"

Croll's expression darkened nastily. "I am no longer a student to be criticised, _Professor_! I am an important member of a significant research facility!"

It was Minerva's turn to smile. "You keep on telling yourself that, Mr Croll. You might feel better about your limp-wristed spell-casting."

Remus couldn't help but smile. _Merlin bless Minerva_…

"How dare…" Croll began a spluttering protest but Minerva's whiplash of a voice had already picked out a new target.

"_Wembley Strout_." One of the Werewolf Capture Unit's finest, a tall blond beefy man with muscles that strained his uniform, jumped violently and quailed like a scolded schoolboy beneath his former professor's steel-eyed gaze. "How many times did I have to tell you not to hold your wand that way? And as for you, Diarmuid McGuire, you should be ashamed of yourself!" A surly looking man with roughly cut dark hair and a scar across one eye socket winced slightly as his fingers played uncertainly with the set of shackles draped across one arm. "I thought you had more respect for the school than this! You had such promise when we made you a prefect and…"

"Is this _necessary_?" Croll's impatient voice snapped abruptly across the Head of Gryffindor's tirade against her ex-students; behind him, his sturdy operatives had wilted in shame in the face of their former professor's wrath.

"Of course it isn't." Minerva slowly raised an eyebrow as she met the researcher's glare unflinchingly. "I'll be happy to desist the moment you gentlemen _leave_."

Croll retorted, but Remus was no longer listening as the argument wound on, two voices rising in a swelling crescendo of disagreement. Minerva's defence was gratifying, no doubt, but ultimately, what had it changed? Croll was still standing in the Great Hall's entrance, the warrant for his arrest gripped within his palm. There had been so much pleasure in his voice as he had spoken of his duty, so much sick satisfaction – to bring Remus down, to fell the mighty werewolf Professor who dared to consider himself the equal of ordinary men, such was the stuff that Croll's dreams seemed to be made off. He would milk every last drop of Remus' dignity before he was done. He didn't just intend an arrest – he intended a _humiliation_.

If Albus had been here, things might have been different. Even Croll would not have spoken so to Dumbledore.

But he wasn't here. He was at the Ministry with Snape…

_What do you know?_

_Enough…_

He knew. Snape. He had known about the warrant.

The look on his face that morning, the smugness, the satisfaction. And he was a friend of Croll's…

_Snape knew this was coming. He didn't say a word. That bastard_…

But there was no time for such thoughts now. He had bigger things to worry about than Snape's petty vendetta.

Student eyes, all around him, staring at Croll, at Minerva, at him, shocked and confused, their incredulity rushing across him like a surge of living breeze. _What has he done_, he could sense them thinking. _Has he betrayed our trust after all?_

Which was exactly what Croll wanted. He wanted every student in that room to think him guilty.

And if he fought, if he shouted, if he ran, he would play straight into the researcher's hands.

He couldn't let Croll have this all his way. He couldn't let them think of him like this. If he was to go – he was going on his _own_ terms.

He did not know what fate awaited him. But he had no choice now but to find out.

_Bureaucracy succeeds where violence fails. It would be laudable if it weren't so bitterly ironic…_

Slowly, carefully, he reached down into his belt and closed his fingers around his wand. He hesitated for a moment, running one finger down the smooth familiar wood that had served him so well and then, as subtly as he was able, he drew it up into the concealment of his sleeve. His eyes flicked to Croll and his entourage but all were firmly preoccupied with the remonstrations of Minerva McGonagall - this was the only chance he was likely to get. He glanced around, considering the possibilities – the Trio sat nearby at the adjacent Gryffindor table, watching with a mixture of confusion, anger and indignation but the towering form of Hagrid was closer and more concealing than his students. And so, with a swift and stealthy backhand, he deposited his wand firmly into Hagrid's nearby palm.

The gamekeeper's bewildered eyes fixed upon him. Remus returned his gaze with weary determination.

"Look after this," he murmured softly, grimly, resignation heavy within his words. "I don't want it snapped."

"Remus…" Hagrid spoke his name in a low whisper of disbelief, but Remus made no answer, instead fixing his eyes upon the rod-straight form of Croll and his impending fate. A low gasp to his left told him that Hermione Granger, seated just two yards away at the Gryffindor table, had seen what he had done, heard what he had said and the looks of furious disbelief on the faces of the now upright Harry, Ron and Ginny were enough to show they too had played witness. But this was not the time.

"Professor, no…" Hermione's words were a whisper. But Remus only shook his head.

"I have no choice," he whispered back.

And then, he began to walk.

It was slow, at first, a soft motion, step by step towards his doom, back straight, head held high beneath the burn of gazing eyes, of slow mutters that arose like drifting winds stirred by his passage, growing, building, swelling as he walked. Could he have fought? Of course he could have. He could have littered the Great Hall with spells and watched as innocent pupils tumbled beneath the crossfire of clumsy retaliation from the likes of Strout and McGuire. Perhaps some would have defended him? But Croll's words to Minerva had been no bluff - it was a legal warrant, of that Remus had no doubt for a forgery would be pointless, dangerous, when Umbridge would certainly have no qualms about adding her signature in truth.

And to defy a legal Ministry warrant was to condemn his defenders along with himself and that was not the fate his wished for his colleagues or his students. Croll had made it clear already – he would not tolerate anyone who stood in his way. Minerva, Harry, Hagrid, his students – they would be punished. If things got out of hand, they could even be arrested or killed. And that he could never allow.

Could he have fled? Not easily. Could he have hidden? Not fast enough. Could he have done anything other than what he was doing?

Not in good conscience.

Step after step. Eyes watching. Croll waiting.

After so many trials, so many narrow escapes, the Institute was going to have him. And the Death Eaters were too.

And his last words to Nymphadora Tonks had been a refusal of her love.

_I wish hadn't argued. I wish I had kissed her last night._

_I wish I could have said goodbye. To her and to Dad both_.

But it was too late now.

_I'm sorry Tonks. I'm sorry Dad_._ But how can I do anything else?_

He could only pray for a miracle. He could only pray that it would not be as bad as he feared.

But he knew, just knew, that it would be.

He could hear Minerva's voice still lashing furiously out at the invaders but a wave of his hand in passing stilled her protests. He ascended the steps, _one, two, three_ and more staring up at Croll's suddenly gleeful smirk, at the blank, scarred faces of the WCU operatives, at the grim and sturdy shackles in their hands and fought down a wave of sickness. It was his worst nightmare since childhood. And it was coming true.

It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. And for it to happen here, in front of everyone…

Last step. There was Croll, smug eyes glinting with glorious triumph, scroll twitching between his fingers as a mark of the anticipation spreading across his face. He slowly smiled.

"Hello Professor," he drawled nastily. "I knew that I'd be seeing _you_ again."

Remus' expression did not waver. His eyes were made of steel.

"If we're going to do this, Croll," he stated softly in return. "Then we're taking it _outside_."

He started to turn, started to brush past the researcher in the direction of the doorway but the emphatic appearance of the burly Strout in his path forestalled his attempt at a dignified exit. He heard Croll chuckle unpleasantly.

"Now, Professor," he declared smugly. "I think that's _my_ decision."

A wave of fury tumbled through Remus – with fierce eyes and narrowed brows, he turned again to Croll.

"You're _enjoying_ this, aren't you?" he stated, unable to hide the anger from his voice.

Croll's smile spread, if possible, even further. His lips curled towards disconcertingly towards his ears.

"_Absolutely_," he fervently replied.

And then, with an emphatic flourish, Arcadius Croll unrolled his scroll and turned to face the assembled masses.

"Remus John Lupin," he proclaimed. "By the Authority of the Ministry of Magic, I hereby take you into the custody of the Feral Institute for severe breaches of the Werewolf Code of Conduct. The charges are as follows; that, on several occasions during the course of the autumn of last year, you were seen to be present in the subversive werewolf club known as _The Howling,_ that you did willingly consort with the known criminal and feral werewolf Abraham Kane and that on one such occasion, you did, in the presence of witnesses, submit to your baser instincts and allow yourself to experience what is known as _a feral incident_. Given the severity of these charges, you are commanded forthwith to surrender your wand for destruction and submit yourself for containment within the Institute for the rest of your natural life. Have you anything to say?"

Utter silence reigned. A thousand faces gaped. Shock rolled through the air like an unseen ocean.

Slowly, grimly, Remus turned to face Croll's unpleasant grin.

"I did not consort with Kane," he said coldly, his words echoing profoundly through the silence. "And I _wasn't feral_."

Croll's chuckle was becoming infuriating. "You know what, Professor?" he replied. "I have a warrant against you whatever. Therefore I don't much _care_." He extended his hand. "Your wand?"

Remus spread his arms. "I don't have it on me."

For the first time, Croll's smug expression wavered. Eyes narrowed, he shot a glance at one of his companions. "Is that true?"

The dark haired operative Minerva had called McGuire was already moving his wand, his lips mouthing a diagnostic spell.

"It's true," he stated gruffly. "No wand."

Croll's expression remained probing. "No matter, I suppose," he drawled at length. "It's not as though you'll be at liberty to retrieve it. Shackle him."

And thus began the uproar.

It was as though those words had proved a catalyst, as though the sudden clunk of shackles as McGuire stepped forward with chains grasped in his hands was enough to make it potent, make it _real_ for those below. Students shot to their feet across the length of the Great Hall, shouting indignantly, protesting furiously, or, in the case of Draco Malfoy and his group of Slytherins, cheering heartily in support of his removal. Only the quick reactions of Minerva McGonagall and Hagrid forestalled Harry's furious charge down the length of the hall, wand held high; as the shackles closed around his wrists, Remus heard his voice echoing out of the mass of sound – _"we'll get you out, Professor Lupin, we'll get you out!"_ – saw him struggling in Hagrid's arms and then he saw Croll smile, saw the operatives each take a grasp upon his chains as the researcher tapped his wand, one, two, three…

And then the Hall was gone, the faces vanished, silence ripped from raging sound as a yank against his navel told him fluently that his shackles were doubling as an Institute portkey. A moment later, he stumbled back into the world.

And stared. Stared at grey, barren, windowless walls, at a sturdy metallic door leading into a blank corridor lined with many more of the same. He knew this place.

It was an Institute cell.

A cell on _Level Six_.

Arcadius Croll's oily smile filled his vision.

"Well Professor Lupin," he drawled. "Welcome_ home_."

**A/N**: At this point I shall confess that the length of this chapter was merely a cunning ploy that allowed me extra time to upgrade my anti-reviewer rage bunker to a Mark Ten and install it deep in the heart of darkest, remotest Peru where no amount of pelting or hurled blunt instruments may harm me. For yet again, I must end a chapter with the words...

PLEASE DON'T HURT ME! -flees- ;)

Many thanks to my lovely and hopefully not violently inclined reviewers this week; **wizardelfgirl, Godricgal, xMissxUnderstoodx, Kailin, thee-unknown-factor-incognito, elka78, kitkatgirl11, Oath of Feanor, Ruby, SiriuslyaddictedtoHP, jumphighly, Hiro No Tsuki, Rebecca Goose, Tarfaniel, Pickledishkiller, morgan, Howling-wolf, le petit chou, Ella J.W, sylthian, wcoastgirl, Mandalen, Lady Bracknell, Will o' the Wisp, Rel Fexive, Camilinha, cassie89, felixgirl, aurelie1, Potter's Muse, LupinLover99, Gilpin, Moony **and** emmaD**. Please be gentle, I've been ill….;)


	26. Isolation

_**26: Isolation**_

Silence.

Stillness.

Four unchanging walls.

How much time had passed since Croll, with a smirk that curled all the way to his earlobes, had slammed closed the heavy door and departed, chuckling, to leave nothing but unending silence in his wake? How long had he sat, staring blankly at grey walls, with no window to mark the passage of the sun, biting his lip pensively against the chafe of the shackle that had been snapped around his wrist before Croll left? How long had it taken for those words engraved upon it - _Resident 142: High Risk _- to imbed themselves within his mind?

Remus didn't know.

All he knew for sure was that hours must have passed for the pull of impending moonrise against his blood was strengthening with every passing moment. And he had not yet had his final dose of Wolfsbane.

_I'm in the Feral Institute at the mercy of a Death Eater with the full moon on the rise. And they wanted me here. They've wanted me here all along_._ And I still don't know why._

_I just wish they'd get on with it. Waiting is worse._

His mind, unable to distract itself due to a lack of outside stimuli, ran rampant with the possibilities. Was he to be Kissed, to become part of a faceless legion of obedient feral slaves? Was he to be unleashed, uncontrolled by Wolfsbane, upon an unsuspecting victim? He knew certainly that he was a prize – a Hogwarts teacher, Dumbledore's ally, the defiant werewolf – was he perhaps to be made an example of? It was a public display of the might of Lord Voldemort in that even this loyal senior member of the Order of the Phoenix could apparently be bent against his will.

Or was this new Death Eater's purpose the same as Kane's had been – to turn him feral, a willing ally of chaos who would spill out the secrets of the Order and slaughter his friends in a heartbeat? Certainly the Death Eater would know that any valuable information he might possess would be lost if his human soul was Kissed away. But if, somehow, his wolf were taken, he would vulnerable to the Imperius curse. Was that the plan? To return him to the Order to act as spy and saboteur? And who would suspect him, the werewolf who everyone knew could not be cursed in such a way?

He would betray his friends, his family. Who would fall and suffer under such a curse? Harry? Dumbledore? His father? His students?

_Tonks?_

Breathing deeply, Remus forced himself to still his raging, tumbling thoughts. Dwelling on his fate would do him no good in the long run – he needed to calm himself, to focus. There was no point in driving himself to distraction over something he could not change – the simple fact was that until Rebekah - or whoever was pretending to be Rebekah – appeared to lead him to his predestined fate, there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Perhaps I shouldn't have come quietly. I thought I was saving lives, but what if I'm simply condemning my friends instead?

Remus shook his head. No. Someone would have been hurt and in the end, he would still have been brought here. The moment a warrant was signed, it was all but inescapable. Tonks had been right – at any other time, there would have been a fuss, unwelcome publicity. But with Bellatrix Lestrange under arrest, who would give a fig about a werewolf professor? And with the full moon that night, whatever they had planned for him would probably be implemented before even the smallest outcry could be raised.

He stared once more at the metal shackle. _High Risk_, it said. But why High Risk? He was not an outright feral – at the most he was no different to the Residents on Level Two. But yet here he was, in a top security isolation cell, listed as major threat. Why? Why keep him separate from the other Residents? Why…

_Need Lupin before first test but keep out of lower levels._

Remus closed his eyes. Oh Merlin.

Now it all made sense. The first test had been that moment with Kane, _Rebekah's_ Imperius curse – she had needed him, just as they had suspected, to prove all trace of the wolf was gone before risking an otherwise dangerous spell that could have killed the caster. But keep out of lower levels – he had assumed there was some great secret there, some mystery they didn't want him to see. But had it meant something different? Had it meant simply that when the day came to incarcerate him, he was to be kept on Level Six instead of lower down?

And he had blundered onto Level Two, assuming an important discovery awaited and had succeeded only in giving his enemies all the ammunition they needed to lock him up for good.

Fantastic. Bloody _fantastic_.

What a gloriously stinking mess this was.

Handing his wand to Hagrid had seemed prudent at the time – after all, it could not have been sneaked past Croll and his men and would have undoubtedly been snapped on the spot – but Remus felt strangely naked without it, oddly helpless. Not that it would have done him much good, he was sure – the security charms on this door were bound to be superior to any simple locking spell and he would have been just as trapped as he had been in Rebekah's office…

_Don't think about what happened in Rebekah's office. It doesn't matter now_.

_After all, you'll probably never see her again_.

Faces, a gallery of faces danced before his eyes. He could see his father, all alone, his mother dead and facing his only son being…_whatever-ed_, gone to join those already lost forever; his mother, James, Lily, Sirius, old friends, Order members, so many, too many lives already snuffed out by this war. He saw the faces of his students – he had loved his job so, loved to teach, taken such pleasure from the dawning light of knowledge on young faces and of course, there was Harry, with Ron and Hermione too, so determined, so brave, so impulsive. Minerva, Albus, Alastor, Kingsley – they would do what they could for him, of course, but he was already certain that any help would come too late.

And then there was Nymphadora Tonks, a gallery of faces within herself. Not even a day had passed since he realised the depth of her place in his heart, but he would never be able to tell her, truly tell her, just what she meant to him. That chance had come and gone.

At least one good thing might come of this. If I die, she'll be better off without me.

But the thought tasted sour, bitter. And very, very wrong.

And then, there was Felisha. A friendship revived under difficult circumstances, strengthened by adversity. What had become of her? Had she already fallen victim to whatever plans were afoot somewhere below him? Or had she…

"_Remus?_"

For an instant, Remus was convinced that the anxious, familiar voice that whispered his name through the bulk of the door had certainly stepped out of his probably now fevered imagination. He blinked.

_Good grief. I've only been here a few hours and I'm already hearing voices_…

"Remus? Remus, can you _hear _me? Remus, if you're listening, _please _answer! _Remus!_"

Remus blinked again. Now that had seemed rather less imaginary…

"Felisha?" he ventured tentatively.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Felisha's familiar voice echoed hollowly against the high vent that pierced the thick door; as Remus came slowly and incredulously to his feet, he could see the barest glimpse of her dark hair on its far side. "I was so worried they might have drugged you, or killed you, or done something terrible! I know Croll's just dying to start running tests…"

The isolation that had sent his brain rambling was fading first – moving hurriedly forward, Remus leaned against the heavy door, straining to see through the vent.

"Felisha, what are you _doing_ here?" he interrupted anxiously. "Do you have _any_ idea what could happen if someone catches you?"

"That's what _I_ said." The somewhat less familiar male voice that responded sardonically froze Remus on the spot. "But Leish said this was the only chance we'd have to get you out…" There was a grunt and a muttering of spells. "Even if being fired will probably be the least of our worries if we get caught…"

Felisha's reply sounded contrite. "I _am_ sorry I dragged you into this, Avin. But I don't have the clearance to open these doors or remove the security bracelet or…"

"Yeah, I know. And I volunteered for this, you didn't bend my arm." The man called Avin gave a long, slightly ironic sigh. "You know you're just bloody lucky I love you so much, woman, or I'd be safely down the pub by now. Ah!" The door gave a percussive jerk. "That's got it. Stand back from the door, Professor."

Bewildered but obedient, Remus stepped away just in time to avoid the sudden, violent shudder that shook the length of the door. And then, with an emphatic clang, the door burst open wide and slammed against wall within with an echoing slap.

Framed in the doorway stood two figures. The first, so familiar, was the curly haired outline of Felisha Hathaway, smiling in at him with a mixture of anxiety and relief. And the second…

Remus' memory kicked in sharply. "You're Falconer!" he exclaimed abruptly. "You signed me in the first time I came here! I taught your brother Mallory."

The young man, his brown hair ruffled and his robes slightly askew, grinned. "I thought you had a bad memory," he remarked with a twitch of his lips as he stepped across the threshold and into the austere interior of the cell. "Sorry about the abrupt entrance." He grinned slightly. " I'm not _strictly speaking_ supposed to open the door that way, but it's quicker than going through all the bloody security checks. You know how it is." He shrugged. "Well, never mind. Come on, Professor Lupin, let's get that bracelet off you so that you can get out of here."

Obediently, Remus offered his wrist to the security guard as Felisha rushed over to join them, her face pale and her brow knitted.

"I'm sorry it took us so long to get here," the researcher still sounded vaguely breathless. "I didn't even know they were planning to arrest you until they'd done it! I'd have come sooner, but it's been frantic here this morning." She shook her head. "You won't _believe_ what's happened!"

Remus knew there was very little left he would have trouble believing about the Institute, especially on the night of the full moon. "Try me," he responded dryly, wincing slightly as Falconer twisted at the shackle. "Problems?"

Falconer grimaced. "This security spell's tougher than the ones they use downstairs. Give me a minute. There may be a way round it like there was with the door."

Remus smiled wryly. "Since I suspect I'll set off every security measure and alarm in the building if I step over that threshold without it removed, I think I can spare the time. Now Leish…"

"Why is it frantic, right?" Felisha nodded with a roll of her eyes. "Well, Remus, I have no idea if this is good or bad, but it's what's happened and we're stuck with it." She took a deep breath. "Rebekah's disappeared."

Mentally, Remus wearily rescinded his lack of surprise. "Disappeared? What do you mean?"

Felisha gave a bemused shrug. "She's just _gone_. She signed out last night to go to her daughter's birthday party but she never made it there. Her broom's still in the foyer downstairs even though she said she'd be flying. There's been no word, to us or to her family – she hasn't been seen since. No one knows _where _she is."

A nasty suspicion was forming in the back of Remus' mind but now was not the time to air it. "Has anyone done anything?"

Felisha sighed. "Her husband's called the Aurors but everyone's so busy with that Death Eater they caught last night I doubt anyone will have time to even read the report." Her expression twisted. "And of course Croll lost no time in declaring himself _Acting Head of the Institute_. He called everyone to a meeting in the Level Five boardroom – that's what Avin and I used as our cover to slip away. We signed ourselves in and then slipped out while everyone was settling. Everyone was so busy trying to find a seat and keep away from Croll…"

"It was too good a chance to waste. Ah ha!" With a sharp squeeze and a shiver, the shackle abruptly released, clattering to the ground with a profound thud as Falconer grinned broadly. "Got the bugger!"

"Nicely done." Remus managed not to wince as he rubbed his fingers across the tender and red raw skin left in the chaffing shackle's wake. "Now what do we do?"

Falconer rubbed one hand through his already messy hair as he glanced at Felisha. "Game of draughts?"

"Prat." Felisha slapped his shoulder although her eyes were telling a very different story to her violence. "What do I see in you?"

Falconer gave her a similarly lingering look in reply. "Want a reminder?"

Fighting slight embarrassment, Remus cleared his throat. Both Felisha and Falconer flushed slightly.

Falconer squared his shoulders, suddenly all business. "I'll sneak back down to the meeting and hope no one noticed I was gone." A smile flicked. "You two can slip out the back."

Remus narrowed his eyes. "The back?"

Felisha was smiling fondly at Falconer. "He means we can use an emergency portkey. From all we've heard, the Ministry's in uproar right now so hopefully we'll be able to sneak out to the entrance without anyone paying us much heed."

Falconer's eyes fixed upon Felisha. "You know where this level's is?" he asked seriously.

Felisha nodded softly. "I know. Take care, Avin."

He smiled in return, although the expression was wan and uncertain. "You too, Leish. See you soon."

"Fingers crossed."

For a brief, eternal instant, the guard and the researcher gazed wordlessly at one another. And then, with a sigh, Avin Falconer turned and vanished into the corridor. A moment later, they heard the clunk of the descending lift.

Felisha stared absently into the space where he had stood for a moment. Then she shook herself.

"Come on, Remus," she said with forced briskness. "Let's get you out of here."

In spite of the seriousness of their situation, Remus couldn't help but smile as he fell in at his old friend's side and moved with her into the corridor.

"He's rather more than your _friend_ in security, isn't he?" he remarked shrewdly.

Felisha's cheeks reddened. "Somewhat more, yes."

The pang was distinct but brief and quickly soothed, an old pain dulled by the passage of twenty years and more nostalgic than genuine. "He seems to love you very much."

Felisha sighed deeply. "And I love him." She smiled slightly. "You know, you're the first person to know. Rebekah discourages _fraternisation_ amongst the staff so we've had to keep it secret – sneaking around, grabbing stolen moments; he even came to join me at the Three Broomsticks after my meeting with you."

_Falconer from the Institute, sitting in the bar_… Remus nodded with a wry smile. "I know. Tonks saw him at the counter. She made us sneak out the back because she thought he was there to spy."

"Oops." Felisha chuckled slightly. "Sorry about that." She sighed yet again. "He's younger than me, you know," she remarked softly. "Only twenty-eight. He's young, he's bright, he's good-looking – he could have any woman he wants but for some reason, I was the lucky one. I just don't know what he sees in me." Her eyes narrowed shrewdly. "But I think you know what that's like."

Remus fought to restrain the flush that stained his cheeks. He failed.

Felisha smiled once more. "I knew it. Did you think no one else had noticed? You must think we're all blind. Or stupid. And there really is no way to answer that without offending me."

If there was one thing that Remus was certain of, it was that he was _not_ going to be drawn into this discussion right now. "Is this portkey much further?"

Felisha's smirk was telling but thankfully she did not push the issue. "It's just around the corner. The next alcove on the…"

Her voice trailed away. Instead came a gasp.

Remus followed her gaze sharply and felt his stomach sink like a stone.

The fake globe-portkey was gone. In its place lay nothing but broken shards.

Felisha moved forward hurriedly, examining the broken pieces with outright disbelief. "Who could have done this?" she exclaimed in horror. "Aylward is so careful with them, he would have noticed if one were broken…"

Remus joined her, his eyes running over the shattered remains with heavy resignation. "Someone who wanted to make sure that no one left this building tonight," he replied, his voice grim and tired. "And that no word reached the outside world until it was too late."

The blood ran from Felisha's face in a flood. "Tonight? They're doing what they're doing _tonight_? On a full moon?"

Remus hardened his jaw. "Well, it makes sense. All the Residents will be locked in their cages for the night – they'll be helpless and chained when they change back in the morning, weak and tired and in no position to put up a fight. And now the staff have been assembled together as well…"

Felisha's jaw dropped. "_Avin!_ He's walked right back there…"

Only Remus' hurried grab forestalled the researcher's mad rush back along the corridor. "We'll be no use if we rush straight in!" he exclaimed as she wheeled on him angrily. "We have to take _care_, Leish."

"Then what can we do?" Felisha's voice was filled with pain – remembering his own agony when Tonks had been injured in the ambush, Remus bit his lip.

"We still don't know anything for sure," he admitted wearily. "But if I am right about this, I don't think there's much the two of us _can_ do alone, especially since it isn't long until the moon will put me out of action. But if this broken portkey is more than an accident, we have to get out of here and raise the alarm as soon as we can. And that means going down."

Felisha was already shaking her head. "Do you really think we'll be able to find another intact portkey?"

"We can try." Remus smiled wanly. "And if we don't, we'll just have to leave out the front door."

Felisha snorted. "Because _that _won't be guarded."

Remus met her eyes with frankness. "Do you have a better idea?"

She returned his gaze despondently. "Nope." Slowly, absently, she twirled her wand between her fingers. "So the suicide plan it is."

**A/N**: Many thanks to my reviewers this week: **TonksIsMyHero, thee-unknown-factor-Incognito, Pickledishkiller, a happy bibliophile, emmaD, Howling-Wolf, Godricgal, Rel Fexive, Oath of Feanor, le petit chou, Potter's Muse, RebeccaGoose, merlinssister, Ruby, igotbannedfroma2k, Lady Bracknell, Aragorn-iz-cool, LupinLover99, Camilinha, Vefa, Siorsa, slightly so, Alexia S Luclwit, Kailin, morgan, Kthi, Tarfiniel, elka78, xMissxUnderstoodx, Moony, kitkatgirl11, sylthian, wcoast-girl, Mandalen, Siriuslyaddicted2HP, felixgirl, Gilpin, pstibbons, InsaneMonkeePirate, EllaJ.W, Adre, Will o' the Wisp, cellorocksmyworld** and **Zevazo**. You are all lovely. :)

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	27. Deserted

**A/N:** Happy New Year to those folks for whom it is a New Year! Hope you all had a good one. :)

**_27:_** **_Deserted_**

_Damn, it's cold_.

The air felt like ice and the silence that shrouded it was deep, chilled and disconcerting. Remus could not explain, even to himself, why this hush that had penetrated the Institute was so very different to the quietness of the night before, but somehow it _tasted _stranger, colder, more threatening than the simple quietude of emptiness. It felt _wrong_.

_We have to get out of here. Quickly_.

The squeak of hinges as Felisha slowly eased back the silver grill of the Level Six lift pierced the silence with a stab for instant but then was swallowed whole. No sound here would live for long.

"Come on." The researcher's voice was a hushed whisper. "The portkey for this level is near the boardroom. We can kill two birds with one stone."

"I'd have preferred a less violent analogy." Remus wasn't sure he'd ever felt less like making humour, but the oppressive chilly silence was weighing upon him, his heart pounding ridiculously in his chest as though to speed his pace along as he started hurriedly into the corridor, one foot after the other echoing briefly, faint and soft against the floor. "And you do realise that if I've just gloriously overreacted to a broken portkey, we're about to walk right in on the very people we should be avoiding."

Felisha fixed him with a pointed gaze. "Somehow, I was imagining that _you_ might wait outside. Though for the look on Croll's face, it might almost be worth it."

Remus smiled slightly, a forced and awkward gesture. "Thank you but I can do without that pleasure."

The corridor extended before them, empty, heavy, filled with cold; Remus fought not to shudder. _I don't want to be here, dear Gods, please get me out!_ He had never been even remotely claustrophobic but the weight of the pending moon and the shivers that laced his blood seemed to fray his nerves to breaking point. He longed to run, to sprint, to hurl himself through the corridors until he was out, blessedly free of this strange place with its strange air and unseen sense of menace but he couldn't, he dare not. Time was of the essence, yes, but so was stealth. It was not good running hard and fast into the arms of danger.

_We have to take care. Calm down, Remus. You've got time yet._

Ahead, the Level Five reception chamber opened out before them, its bright cushions and Moroccan rug all but overwhelmed by the suffocating silence around them. Cymone's desk was its usual dishevelled mess, Rebekah's office door was firmly closed and the silver grills that gave access to the lift and to the emergency stairs were…

Remus froze. His eyes fixed upon the entrance to the stairwell.

_That's not right_…

"Felisha," he said softly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but shouldn't the grill to the stairwell be sealed?"

"Yes, of course it…" Felisha's sentence tailed away as her eyes followed Remus' to encounter the very same sight. "It's _open_," she breathed in shock. "Why in Merlin's name has it been left open? No one on the staff would _ever _be so…"

"Unless they were running for their lives," Remus' soft interruption drew Felisha's instant stare. "And didn't have time to close it."

He felt Felisha's free hand curl around his wrist. "I _really _don't like this, Remus."

"I know." Remus was quite proud that he managed to sieve all of the anxiety from his voice as he spoke. _Don't dive down the stairs, don't dive down the bloody stairs! Lupin, get a hold of yourself!_ "But we have stay calm and alert. It may be our only way out of this."

Though the words were as much for himself as for her, he felt her fingers tightened. "I wish I knew where Avin was."

"I wish we did too. But there's nothing we can do about that now." Remus hoped his words did not sound harsh – that was not even remotely his intent – but in his strangely heightened sense of anxiety, he found it difficult to tell. "But the best thing we can do is get out of here and bring back reinforcements as soon as we can. Now, which way is that portkey?"

Wordlessly, Felisha led the way across the deserted reception, past the gaping open maw of the dark stairwell and into the corridor beyond. They passed the entrance to her office still without speaking before turning right down a fresh branch of passageway and into a part of the Institute that Remus had not yet seen.

And he didn't particularly _want_ to see it either.

He couldn't recall ever feeling quite like this before a change. The closest he could think of was that awful night when Kane had broken into Hogwarts and Remus had barely been able to control the rising anger of his wolf, almost freed for the first time in years. But this was something new entirely – he felt as though certain parts of himself were being tweaked, picked at and he found himself battling with a mixture of irrational irritation and cold fear all bound up in an overwhelming instinct to bolt away before it consumed him entirely. Breathing deeply, Remus struggled to bring himself back into some kind of order.

_Calm. Rational. Control. Calm. Rational. Control. Calm_…

The chill was deeper here. It seared against his bones.

_What the hell is the matter with me?_

"There's another lift that goes down to Level Four just ahead on the right." Felisha's voice, when it came, almost caused Remus to jump as it flowed into the silence tensely, riddled with an edge of forced calm and suppressed fear that seemed alarmingly familiar. "It leads to Zelia's Potion labs and the rooms where some of us do research. The portkey is the lamp three alcoves beyond it. The boardroom is just around the corner of the corridor opposite."

Remus nodded softly in response, forcing himself to chant his mental mantra once again as he struggled to maintain his air of composure. "I'll check the portkey. You go and see if there's anyone in the boardroom."

With a brisk nod, Felisha took a firmer grasp on her wand and moved quickly ahead. A few steps later, she turned left down another corridor and vanished from view.

Remus took a deep breath. Odd shivers and sense of growing detachment was creeping across his body with alarming determination. Whatever else was wrong, there was no stopping the approach of the inevitable.

_Only a few more hours to the moon. We have to hurry…_

Moving rapidly, Remus passed the silver grill of the small lift and counted his way quickly along light globes beyond it, one, two…

_Damn. Damn!_

Even with the implications of the first portkey, of the Institute's eerie silence, a part of Remus Lupin had still hoped he might be wrong, that the Institute staff would still be in their meeting, that his suspicions about a Death Eater takeover were nothing more than paranoia.

But two smashed portkeys was a different matter.

Reaching out, Remus scooped the shattered shards of the Level five portkey into his palm. He fought down the urge to grind the remains into powder with his fist.

_So much for the easy way_…

"Remus?"

A raise of his head found Felisha, appearing out the corridor she had vanished down with washed out features and uncertain eyes.

"The portkey?" she asked without much expectation.

"Somehow, I'm sensing a theme." Remus raised a sardonic eyebrow as he lifted up the broken pieces, rotating them with one finger in the palm of his hand as he gazed down at the wreckage of another hope. "I don't think we're going to have much luck with these. The boardroom?"

"Deserted." Felisha's face had grown, if possible, even paler in the last few minutes. "But not in the way I expected. Come and see for yourself."

Depositing the shards back into their holder with a flick of his hand, Remus turned and followed the researcher back along the passageway to a large set of double doors that had been flung broadly and dramatically apart. And beyond, lay the boardroom.

It was large and predictably grey, with a long wooden table set with severe looking chairs running nearly its length. The walls too were lined with seats all except for one corner into which was indented a small door that Remus assumed to be some manner of broom cupboard or storeroom. A large depiction of the Institute's symbol emblazoned the wall to the left.

As Felisha had said, it was empty. But it did not look as though it _should_ be.

In sconces around the wall, unexpectedly bright candles had been placed between each of the light globes, their wicks still glowing as a drift of smoke implied that they had been only recently snuffed out. Each chair was tidily, almost precisely tucked into its given place at the table, and beside each of these places sat a pile of paper, some neat, some skewed more scruffily, a quill and ink point and glasses of water, variously filled. Several half empty plates contained crumbly looking biscuits. The air hung heavy and stank of a powerful, saturating scent, musky and spiced. For an instant, Remus' vulnerably weary eyelids were forced to battle with the urge to close.

"Croll is a creature of habit." Felisha's voice echoed gently against the empty walls, jerking Remus back to attention. "Even for an emergency meeting he would have insisted the formalities be observed. Notes and quills for everyone at the table. Refreshments available for all. I can just see him fiddling about with water spells while everyone else sat around chaffing at him to get to the point." Her brown eyes raked over the immaculate grey but profoundly empty boardroom. "This is just how it always is for our meetings. Except that there's nobody _here_." Frustration keened in her voice. "You'd think if they had fled, there would be more of a mess. And surely if someone had taken them all, there'd at least be some sign of a _fight_. I know Avin and his colleagues wouldn't go quietly."

The wrongness seemed amplified here, such an ordinary room left barren, empty, stripped of life by an unknown hand. The chill had lessened a little against the heat of the remains of the candles, but somehow the residual stink from the drifting tendrils of smoke was _worse_.

"This _is _strange." The odour in the air was whispering at his nostrils – his treacherous eyelids flickered once more and irritably he fought them open. _Bloody scent, what in Merlin's name_… "Leish, what's that smell?"

Felisha rolled her eyes. "Oh, that. It's Zelia's Harmony Candles. They've got some kind of calming potion infused into the wick. She always lights them before every meeting to insure _a harmonious and peaceable exchange of views._" She sniffed slightly and wrinkled her nose. "They aren't usually this strong though. She must have over-egged this batch."

To say they did not smell especially harmonious to Remus was an understatement. "Do they work?"

"Not really." Felisha smiled wanly. " Mostly they just put you to sleep. Which in these meetings is often a blessed relief to tell the truth."

Diplomacy could go hang. "Well, they're vile. And they're making me dozy."

Felisha wrinkled her nose but her lips were curling. "A man of taste." The brief levity faded as her eyes raked over the room once more. "Remus, I don't like this at all. There's something creepy about seeing this room so _empty_. I think I just want to get out of here."

"Agreed." Remus sighed deeply, battling the slow rise of panic once more. "I doubt we'll find a portkey intact in this entire building. I think all we can do is head for the front door and hope we get lucky."

"I don't think we need luck." Felisha's grasp on her wand, their only weapon, tightened noticeably. "I think we'll need a bloody _miracle_. Someone wouldn't go to the trouble of smashing all those portkeys and then leave the front door wide open."

Her words almost precisely echoed the thoughts that were running through Remus' mind. "I know. But we have to…"

But the sentence was never completed. For in that instant came a _sound_.

It was a small thing, just a clatter, the smallest of percussions, but in the overwhelming silence left on Level Five, it echoed like a scream. Remus froze instantly – at his side, he saw Felisha wheel, her wand extended towards the corner of the room from which the sound had come.

Towards the cupboard door.

_What the hell was that?_

Remus looked at Felisha. Felisha looked at Remus.

On stealthy, silent feet Remus began to cross the room, Felisha just a step behind. With the tip of her wand, the researcher gestured him towards the door handle – for an instant, Remus considered offering to take the wand instead but now did not seem the time for disagreements and anyway – for him to lash out at present really did not seem a good idea. Instead he simply nodded, wrapping his palm slowly and precisely around the knob as Felisha braced herself, wand raised, a few feet away.

Remus braced.

Felisha nodded.

And with a single twist, Remus yanked open the door.

"_Impedi_…"

"Don't hurt me, don't hurt me, oh _please, please don't hurt me_!"

Felisha's spell froze on her lips. "_Cymone?_"

Remus was next to her instantly, his eyes confirming a moment later what Felisha's lips had proclaimed. It was indeed Cymone Wrigley who lay curled up and quaking amongst dustpans, blank paper and empty boxes, her podgy hands clutching at her brown-rooted dyed red hair in tight fists as she winced away from an imaginary blow. For a moment, she continued to rock and shiver as though injured, sobbing out her desperate pleas for mercy – but then, the slow realisation of her current intactness seemed to dawn upon her and one round eyes behind crooked glances peaked out from behind one palm.

_Oh great. Well, isn't that all we need?_

"Felisha!" she gasped in astonishment. "I thought you'd vanished with the others. And…" Her voice trailed away as plump cheeks quivered and her eyes fixed upon Remus. Her jaw dropped.

And then she _screamed_.

"_Mad feral! Mad feral! He's got out, he's got out!_" Boxes went flying, dustpans clattered, plates smashed as the substantial bulk of Cymone hurtled backwards as far as was possible within the limited confines of her cupboard, screeching at the top of her lungs as her silver daubed fingernails clawed at the wall. "_Help! Help!_ _Hel_..."

For an instant, it was all Remus could do to prevent himself from leaping forward and slapping the ridiculous little woman into silence. Fortunately, Felisha was quicker.

"_Silencio!_"

Cymone's hysteria cut off instantly – the assistant's eyes widened as she clawed at her throat, but no sound emerged. Felisha's expression was grimly resigned as she lowered her wand.

"Cymone, _shush!_" she ordered in a hiss. "Do you want someone to _hear _us?"

He could barely breathe. He struggled to speak. _What was that, why did I think that?_ _What's the matter with me? What…?_

Feral. Am I going feral? Am I…? 

"Remus?" Felisha's frantic voice cut into his frantic musings. "I think I can hear something."

Remus looked at her sharply. "I don't hear anything."

But a moment later, that was a lie.

Rattling breaths, echoing in the corridor. Coldness, chilled like ice, driven before the broken silence. And then….

_Silver moonlight gleamed like a knife-blade. Claws sank into his back as golden eyes flashed viciously_…

_Pain, such pain as teeth sank into his side_…

Remus staggered. Cold, no inner chill but a wash of icy wind brushed across his skin, arctic, biting, blowing in a tide of sudden horror. He felt Felisha gasp and stumble, saw Cymone's lips part in a soundless cry of horror as the cold touch stroked them too…

_Abraham Kane's lupine eyes flashing with triumph as he darted towards the vulnerable students… the rise of his own desire to turn to bite, to kill…_

The glowing candlewicks dimmed and flickered. The room was swamped by shadows as the cold deepened, lengthened, seeping into his soul as it leeched away any sense of the warm or the bright…

There was no mistaking that feeling. There was no mistaking what he'd been feeling all along.

In the last hint of the light, he met Felisha's horrified eyes. Cymone's scream had been loud enough to wake the dead. But it had woken worse.

It had woken a _Dementor._

**A/N: **Many thanks to my reviewers this week: **aurelie1, a happy bibliophile, Tabari Avaren, Thee-Unknown-Factor, Hiro No Tsuki, emmaD, le petit chou, Ruby, Zevazo, Pickledishkiller, Howling-wolf, EllaJ.W, The Great RC, LupinLover99, Kailin, Mandalen, Lii, Leonew, xMissxUnderstoodx, kitkatgirl11, Rel Fexive, Gilpin, felixgirl, Lady Bracknell, sayan-P, morgan, JoeAteAMuffin, phoenixtear19, aurelie1, sylthian, krumfan, SheWhoWillOneDayRuleEvilly **&** Snowfall** for your lovely reviews! For my more specific responses to some of you, check the link on my profile to my LJ. :)


	28. Found and Lost

**A/N:** Since I suspect people will read the first few lines of this chapter, realise what I've done and come after me with big sticks, I'm off to hide in my reinforced bunker in Antarctica. Excuse me please...;)

**_28: Found and Lost_**

The Ministry of Magic was in uproar.

Nymphadora Tonks winced at the blast of sound that struck her forcefully as she stepped out of the restricted floo connection into the familiar cubicles of the Auror division of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Everywhere, her colleagues and friends were in frantic motion, snatching at papers, grabbing their wands and racing here and there in a distinctly headless-chickenish manner. Contradictory orders were hurled back and forth, bellows of possible leads, the grabbing up of interview transcripts, the rustling of files. She caught a glimpse of Robards hurling files over his shoulder, of Dawlish shouting commands at anyone who moved nearby, of Savage and Proudfoot grabbing their wands as they raced passed her and dived out of the door. She couldn't help but roll her eyes. She loved the Auror department, even at its worst, but after so many previous years of false leads and lunatics in white face paint with pet boa constrictors, her workmates did have a tendency towards the excitable where genuine cases of dark magic was concerned.

And Bellatrix Lestrange was as dark as they came.

Her thoughts lingered for a moment upon her Death Eater aunt. That she was a nutter of the highest order was indisputable, that she was evil and delusional was unquestioned by anyone. But she was also vindictive and vicious and dangerous with it; that she had been captured at all was quite a coup.

And it was a relief, a personal relief, for Tonks. Her parents had been living in fear of Bellatrix ever since her escape the year before. Now perhaps, her family could get back to normal.

Whatever normal was.

A yawn assaulted her. Tonks stretched her jaw with a shake of her head, trying to fight of the fuzzy headed tiredness that was strangling her brain, a lethargic dopeyness that a night of barely a few hours sleep on a hard floor had hardly succeeded in denting. Mind you, if Remus hadn't insisted on her getting even that small amount of rest, Merlin knew what kind of state she would be in…

Pain, sharp and bitter pierced the fog of her mind. She clamped down on it viciously.

_Don't think about Remus! You've got work to do, Tonks, and he's a distraction. Sort yourself out!_

Determinedly, she hardened her jaw, forcing herself to ignore the gaping black hole of wounded pain that swirled around her heart. There was no point in thinking about it, no point in dwelling on it. He had turned away from her kiss, refused to return her feelings and as far as she was concerned, that was the _end_ of the matter. She was a _professional_ – she was not going to allow some stupid rejection to interfere with either her job or her work with the Order. It was _his_ bloody problem, not hers, and she wasn't going to get herself all worked up just because he was a repressed, frigid…

"Tonks?"

The hand on her shoulder startled her violently – her head whipped to find the sympathetic eyes of Kingsley Shacklebolt staring down at her. He smiled slightly.

"It _is_ you," he said, a hint of surprise evident in his eyes. "I almost didn't recognise you."

Tonks fixed him with a long, slow glare. "Kingsley, how long have we worked together?"

Kingsley's smile widened. "_Too_ long. And in all that time, I've seen you walk in every morning with some new shade or shape of outstandingly gaudy hair. I hardly recognised you with something so _subdued_."

_Subdued?_ All right, perhaps black wasn't exactly her usual shade of pink or green or orange, but it was hardly subdued – rather bewildered, Tonks reached up and plucked a nearby hair from her spikes for brief examination.

She stopped dead.

It was brown.

Mousy brown. Wispy brown. Her father's brown. Her _natural_ brown.

The brown she had hated and hidden for as long as she had been able to.

So what the _bloody hell_ was it doing on her head now?

It had happened before, once or twice, an unplanned appearance by her natural hair. She remembered that she had been unable to change it for a week after Grandpa Tonks had died. When her kitten had escaped at the age of eight, she had been brown all day until Dad had found him and brought him back. And then again, when Callum McAllister had dumped her in sixth year for someone who was _always_ tall and blonde…

Dumped.

_Oh no_…

Kingsley's smile had faded at the look on her face. "Tonks? Is everything all right?"

A part of her longed to scream _no _but there was no way on Merlin's misty earth that she was going to stand there and admit that she was hurting like hell over Remus Lupin turning her down when there was important work to be done. Furiously, she forced herself to smile.

"I'm fine, Kingsley," she said, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "I'm just _knackered_. Up all night, remember?"

"Ah." Kingsley glanced around furtively, his own voice barely a whisper. "Yes. Sorry I missed the briefing with Moody, by the way, but they'd already called me in by then. How much sleep have you actually had?"

"A couple of hours earlier and then about forty minutes between me getting back to my room in Hogsmeade from Grimmauld Place and being woken by the emergency owl from the office. But after Moody told me about Bellatrix, I was kind of expecting it."

Kingsley sighed. "I'm really sorry. I put off sending for you for as long as I could get away with." Abruptly his volume swelled. "It's unfortunate we had to call you in off sick leave, Tonks, but it's all hands to the pumps today. Don't worry, I won't be sending you out chasing Death Eaters down alleys though. I've put some files in your cubicle. You can work on those for me."

"_Paperwork?_" Tonks opened her mouth with the intention of informing her friend exactly what that prospect did for her but before she could launch herself into a sentence, the iron-haired Dawlish strode over with a stern expression on his face.

"Yes, Tonks, paperwork," he cut in sharply, slicing the wind out of his younger colleagues sails quite effectively. "Officially, you're still on sick leave and I'm not having anyone out in the field who isn't at the top of their game. If _you_ go out and make a mess of a mission, Scrimgeour would have _my_ guts for garters and _that_ would make me _annoyed._ So stop moaning, get to your cubicle and _get on with it_." Without even a pause, the older Auror turned sharply on his heel and strode away, muttering to himself about the weak constitutions of the young and how if he'd had his guts sliced open, he'd have been back on the job the next day and been _happy_ about it. Tonks and Kingsley watched him go.

"He's in good humour," Tonks remarked at length.

"Must be the excitement." Kingsley shrugged easily. "He's right though, you're on paperwork whether you like it or not." He lowered his voice slightly. "I haven't given you anything of earth-shattering importance to do. So if nothing else, you can always grab some sleep at your desk."

Tonks flashed a wan smile. "Nice to know my skills are in such high demand. Come on mate. Lead me to my bed of files."

Her cubicle was much as she had left it the week before, apart from the waist high stack of files and scrolls that had been placed on the already rather disorganised surface of her desk. Wearily, Tonks dropped into her chair, snatching a convenient chocolate biscuit from the box to one side and munching on it therapeutically. Kingsley grinned but waited politely until she was done. Chocolate was not something to be interrupted.

Finally, Tonks swallowed and span to face her friend. "So, what I am doing with this wonderful pile of hearth fodder then?"

Kingsley leaned down over her desk and flourished a scrappy piece of parchment with blackened edges and a scorched surface. "_This_ is the reason we have Bellatrix Lestrange in custody," he stated frankly. "Yesterday evening, this note was thrown out of the public floo downstairs, wrapped around a stone. When the watchwizard who took it in the head regained consciousness, he brought it straight up to us. Here, take a look." Carefully, he handed the blackened scrap to Tonks. "It's a tip off," he explained as Tonks ran her eyes over the dusty writing, barely legible beneath its film of soot. "It told us that Bellatrix Lestrange was planning an attack on a Muggleborn member of the Wizengamot last night in York. Dawlish was convinced it was a hoax or a trap but Scrimgeour was adamant it should be followed up and so he sent me and Dawlish out with a team to keep watch at the location. And lo and behold, Bellatrix showed up right on schedule. Dawlish was so shocked he almost forgot to arrest her."

Tonks smiled slightly as Kingsley grinned. "And so you brought her in?"

"After a hell of a fight, yes." Kingsley's grin faded as he settled himself on the only part of her desk not strewn with papers, mugs and random half-forgotten snacks. "But we were lucky and we had the element of surprise. There were no fatalities, although Williamson and Sparrow will be in St Mungos for a while. Proudfoot, however, excelled herself. She pulled off one heck of a well-timed _expelliarmus_ and gave me the chance to hit Lestrange with a stunner. Dawlish has put her up for a commendation."

"And not you?"

Kingsley chuckled. "He doesn't fancy me. Thank Merlin."

Tonks snorted. "I don't think Esther Proudfoot does either. Williamson saw her with John Savage at the Leaky Cauldron a few weeks ago, firmly lip-locked."

"This is not the time for office gossip." Kingsley's tone was sardonically prim. "You've got work to do."

Tonks flourished the blackened letter. "Which is…?"

"Thrilling and exciting." Kingsley pushed himself upright. "The charms division have been over that letter inch by inch but getting scorched in the floo has effectively wiped off any traces of magic we could have used to track down the author. Thanks to Eric's unconsciousness, the floo connection was cut off before it could be traced back and we haven't found a known match on the handwriting. But Dawlish is convinced it had to be another Death Eater who turned her in and he wants to know _who_. So he asked me to ask you to go through these files and pick out some likely candidates – Death Eaters who might have a grudge against Bellatrix or a protective streak regarding her intended victim, that sort of thing. You know the drill."

"Yeah, I know the drill." Tonks pulled a face. "This is _drudge_ work, Kingsley. It's not even likely to be any _use_." Her voice took on a vaguely plaintive note. "I could have been in _bed_."

Kingsley sighed deeply. "I _am_ sorry. But if it's any consolation, I do have something that might spark your interest a little more." Reaching into his robes, he drew out a small scroll daubed with red ink, a document easily recognisable within the division as a Missing Persons Report. "This came in a few hours ago. No one paid it much notice with all the Lestrange work going on, but I knew you'd want to see it. A Mr Felix Goldstein of Castle Road, Scarborough reported his wife _Rebekah _missing as of last night. Somewhere between leaving the Feral Institute and their family home, she seems to have gone astray. No one's seen her in hours."

"_What?_" Tonks snatched the scroll sharply from his outstretched hand, her sluggish mind sharply electrified. "But that can't be right!"

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "Any particular reason why not?"

Tonks breathed deeply, hauling in her raging thoughts. "Because she's a polyjuiced _Death Eater_," she stated with soft discretion. "Or at least we're pretty sure she is. Remus…" _Business..._ "...and I found Polyjuice potion and a lock of her hair in the drawer of her desk."

Kingsley's eyes widened. "Are you sure it was Polyjuice?"

Tonks shrugged slightly. "As sure as I could be. Remus has taken it to Snape for checking."

"Snape?" Kingsley frowned. "Snape's downstairs with Dumbledore. He arrived maybe half an hour ago to advise about Bellatrix…"

Bellatrix.

Rebekah.

_Oh no. Surely not_…

Tonks' eyes fixed upon the report in front of her. Rebekah Goldstein had last been seen at twenty-five past seven.

"Kingsley." Though her voice was soft, its tone caught her colleague's instant attention. "What time was it when you arrested Bellatrix?"

Her fellow Auror frowned in mild confusion but he did answer the question. "Just gone eight o'clock last night. Why…" His voice trailed away. "Uh, oh," he breathed. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Assuming that you're thinking that Bellatrix may have been our fake Rebekah." Tonks closed her eyes as she allowed her mind to skate across her various memories of Rebekah, searching for some small hint, some word or gesture that might bring to mind her Death Eater aunt. Apart from a general air of nastiness, nothing specific sprang to mind. "It'd make her a better actress than I'd give her credit for but we can't rule the possibility out." She allowed herself a brief smile. "If it is her, though, that tip off may have just solved our problems at the Feral Institute."

Kingsley chuckled slightly. "It'd be nice, wouldn't it? What do you reckon? Shall we nip downstairs and tell Dumbledore about our theory so that he can ask the charming Mrs Lestrange about it in person?"

"You go." Carefully, Tonks placed the Missing Persons report onto the top of her only mildly dishevelled in-tray. "I'll stay and get on with this." At Kingsley's quizzical look, she grinned. "Well, I don't know about you, but if our theory is correct, I'm a bit more interested in who sent us that tip-off than I was a few minutes ago."

"Good thought." Kingsley nodded briskly as he made towards the corridor once more. "You should contact Remus too. Let him know what we've found."

Her heart contracted painfully once more at the mention of his name but she carefully insured that no hint of her distress touched her face.

"I'll do that," she stated blandly. "See you in a bit, Kingsley."

"See you in a bit, Tonks."

As Kingsley departed, Tonks fought back the urge to slump face first into her paperwork. She'd been doing so well…

"Don't dwell," she told herself sternly. "You're a professional. Do your job."

Sending Remus a message at the moment did not seem wise, however. It would be hard to resist the urge to scribble intense personal questions regarding his behaviour the night before in the margins…

_Later. I'll write to him later. When I'm not so tired. When I've had a chance to think. After all, there's hardly any rush. _

_It's not as though he's going anywhere_…

**A/N**: Many thanks to all of my lovely reviewers this week: **Jump Highly, phoenixtear19, aurelie1, slightly so, felixgirl, EllaJ.W, Ruby, elka78, krumfan, The Great RC, Camilinha, Pickledishkiller, Lady Bracknell, Lady Slytherin3, Howling-Wolf, blacklady, Snowfall, Kailin, Lii, Zevaso, Kitana, xMissxUnderstoodx, Oath of Feanor, Rel Fexive, le petit chou, kitkatgirl11, wcoast-girl, mariyana, morgan, JoeAteAMuffin, YourEvilOverlord, sylthian, TheJazz, Mandalen, Gilpin, Nienna Telrunya, purebristles **and** mercutio-rane**! And a respectful nod must go in the direction of **TheJazz, Conn JS1** and **purebristles** as well as several others recently for successfully slogging through Oblivious and Imperius overa few days! That is a lot of reading…;)

More specific responses can be found on my Live Journal - links can be found on my profile. :)


	29. What Lies Beneath

**A/N:** Well you wanted to know what was happening to Remus. But you may wish you hadn't asked...;)

_**29: What Lies Beneath**_

"Cymone! Cymone, _get up_!"

The shrill note of terror in Felisha's voice seemed to vibrate against the icy chill that had race through Remus' nerves as the shivers of coldness from the Dementor's presence flowed towards them. It had been their only chance – a good patronus, a rapid exit and a desperate dash for relative safety beyond – but Cymone's utter refusal to uncurl her cowering body from around a nest of cleaning materials in the corner of her hideaway had thwarted that scheme before it had even been tried.

And now it was too late. There was nowhere to run.

It was in the corridor outside. Aside from running directly through it, the only route of escape they had was now blocked.

_Oh Merlin. Now what?_

Remus fought to suppress waves of cold, blind panic and despairing hopelessness – he struggled against the surge of negativity but found the memories he summoned in his mind's defence bleached of colour, of warmth, of happiness, tainted by sourness and shadows of his past. He saw James and Lily's Potter's laughing faces contorting into death masks, Sirius' smirk fading into a shocked expression as he vanished through the veil, his mother pale and lifeless, his father old and broken, Tonks bloodied and limp…

_Stop it!_

He longed for his wand: at least then he could have mustered some _semblance_ of a defence. But there was nothing he could do, nothing, no way out, no protection, no escape…

He felt hands grasp his shoulders, startling him violently. An instant before he instinctively lashed out, he realised that it was Felisha. The researcher appeared abruptly at his side, her face ashen, the fingers that gripped her wand shaking almost uncontrollably. Her eyes were almost wild.

"We have to hide!" she exclaimed frantically. "Remus, we have to hide!"

Hiding was pointless in the face of a blind creature than sniffed out prey by their emotions – of that Remus was certain. But what else was there to do? It would be at least reassuring to have some kind of barrier between the Dementor and themselves, some manner of physical protection…

"It's all right!" It was a blatant lie – Remus was feeling about as far from all right as was possible – but Felisha's expression implied that she was teetering close to the edge of hysteria. "I've faced them before! If we get out of its reach, we'll be fine!"

Felisha did not need to be told twice. After a last horrified glance at her companion, she hurled themselves into the cramped cupboard beside the silently screeching Cymone. A moment later, Remus had joined her as he firmly yanked the door shut behind them.

But solid wood could not deflect the chill.

_Severus Snape's terrified teenage eyes as they stared into the Shrieking Shack and the burn of deadly instinct, of the scent of blood, blood, fresh blood, human flesh to sink between his teeth… Alastor Moody's shocked expression as grief and rage and alcohol overrode his senses_…_Rage boiling inside his mind as he stared into Abraham Kane's mocking eyes, listened to his malicious boasts of taking Diana Lupin's life – he longed to tear, to bite, to kill_…

Stop it!

Furiously, Remus clamped his teeth down against his lower lip, ignoring the coppery taste of blood that flowed into his mouth as he fought to control the flood of violent memories that surged across his mind, the sick feeling in his stomach and the horrifying desire to turn and rage and mangle. Felisha's single glance, illuminated in the thin light that arched through the crack in the hinge, was enough to tell him of what he already suspected – this was no ordinary Dementor of misery and strife.

This was the Dementor that had consumed the feral soul of Abraham Kane.

This was the feral Dementor from Level Six.

But _how _in Merlin's name had it _got out_?

Felisha's shaking hand pressed against his. He could feel the smooth wood of her wand against his fingers.

_Yes. Yes!_

Struggling desperately against the tide of violent thoughts, Remus dredged his desperate mind in search of a happy memory, of something, _anything_ that might launch a Patronus in their defence. He thought of Harry, his face triumphant, snatching the Golden Snitch out of the air as his Prongs-Patronus rode out for the very first time to smite Draco Malfoy and his friends… But then suddenly he was looking at an older Harry, his green eyes wide with despair and horror as he fought against his former teacher's grasp, yearning towards a fluttering veil and a Godfather lost forever and Tonks was there too, lying slumped and broken where she fell, her face covered in blood, so much blood…

_Dammit!_

Rattling breaths, closer, closer. The Dementor was in the boardroom…

Furiously, he searched again and this time he alighted on Tonks laughing face in the bar of the Three Broomsticks, her eyes flashing wickedly as they battled away in a gloriously juvenile thumb war… But then she was battling Death Eaters and tumbling head over heels to slump into his arms, her eyes shocked, her robes soaked in blood, so much blood…

_Oh for Merlin's sake_…

_Happy memory, Remus! Happy memory, happy memory, happy memory_…

But nothing would come. The moon was too close and violence too strongly on his mind.

Cold washed through his body. Closer, it was coming closer…

_I have to think of something good. I have to think of something good_…

Blood. Blood was good. To bite, to tear, to kill, to scatter limbs and taste the tang of bitter heat as blood washed down his tongue, flesh between teeth, skin ripping as claws slashed down…

_No!_

_This isn't going to work. I can't do this. It's too much, too close…_

He glanced almost desperately at his companions. Felisha's pale face told him that she was having little more luck. And Cymone's quaking form would be no use at all.

_And they're easy prey. Trapped. So easy to kill them both, to bite, to taste_…

"What the bloody hell is that doing in here? The bosssaid it was to be taken downstairs to join the others!"

The sudden voice startled Remus profoundly and Felisha's jump against his shoulder told him that she had been equally started. Her brown eyes met his, caught in the sliver of light, and told him more eloquently than words that this voice was no one she knew.

There was a stranger in the Institute.

"Look Gibbon, have you ever tried to control one of these bloody things? We were trying to take it downstairs but the cursed creature _doesn't want to go_."

Make that _two_ strangers. And the mutterings of assent added more.

But one was not so strange to Remus. He knew the name Gibbon too well from Alastor Moody's briefings.

There were Death Eaters in the Institute. Death Eaters and Dementors.

For Remus had no doubt who Gibbon's _others_ were.

It seemed tonight was the night for all of his worst fears regarding the Institute to come true. Voldemort had clearly decided that the time had come for his Imperiused werewolf army to begin its hunt. And he was trapped here with them.

And if he got caught, he would be one of them.

Outside the door, a debate was raging.

"Do you want to do this?" The second voice was declaring hotly, although the shake that underlay his tone implied that he was having as much difficulty dealing with the Dementor's presence as the hidden three behind the door. "It just wandered off down here instead of taking the stairs. We tried to herd it back but…"

"I don't want to here your excuses." Gibbon, it seemed, was not a man of patience. "Take it and get down to Level One before the boss comes up to find out what the delay is." He chuckled hollowly. "You know as well as I do that you wouldn't like him when he's angry."

There were a few half-hearted snorts of assent. The second Death Eater huffed impatiently. "Just because he has a schedule…" he muttered irritably. "What about the sport he promised us? When do the games start?"

Gibbon laughed coarsely. "As soon as this thing gets downstairs. That's when we can fetch Lupin and wait for the fun to begin. I just can't wait to see that self-righteous werewolf bastard's face in the morning."

There was a quick burst of laughter. But it was hurriedly swallowed by the cold.

The silence heaved.

"Tighten those restraints." Gibbon's voice was also rife with a strained edge now. "And get that thing were it should be."

"Come on, Dementor." There was a slightly mordant note to the second man's voice. "This way for your dinner."

Footsteps departed into the corridor once more. Slowly, agonisingly, the cold ebbed away.

And then all was silence once more.

They waited for almost a minute. But there were no footsteps. There was no sound.

And the cold was gone.

Remus felt better than he had done since leaving his cell. _It must have been lurking around for a while. No wonder I felt so strange._

"Has it gone?" Felisha's voice was a mere whisper.

Remus nodded gently. "I think so. But there's only one way to make sure."

And so he opened the door.

The boardroom looked unchanged from moments earlier. Ironically, Remus wished he could say the same about their situation.

Felisha appeared abruptly at his side. "I don't know who they were," she exclaimed slightly breathlessly. "But they aren't from the Institute and they definitely shouldn't…"

"They're Death Eaters." Remus' quiet sentence cut off the rest of her words. "I've come across Gibbon before. Death Eaters are controlling the Institute."

Felisha's face paled, if possible, even further. "We have to get out of here."

"I think we knew that already."

"But now it's a little more certain and a lot more urgent." Felisha grimaced. "I don't like the sound of _sport_."

"That makes two of us."

"And if they're going to come and get you soon…"

"…Then they'll realise I'm gone." Remus finished the sentence with a grim frown. "And all Hell will break loose."

Felisha sighed deeply. "Still the front door?"

Remus met her gaze with weary resignation. "Unless you've come up with a better idea."

Felisha's eyes flicked towards Cymone. The assistant was still quivering in a heap in the cupboard, lower lip vibrating like a flag in a hurricane. She looked barely able to stand, let alone make a stealthy flight for her life. "What about Cymone? Do we take her with us?"

Remus sighed deeply. He had nothing against Cymone whatsoever but right at this moment, when stealth and discretion was required in spades, he could not see her being anything but a burden.

"Well, we can hardly leave her for the Dementors and the Death Eaters, can we?" he said with profound weariness. "We'll have to bring her along."

Felisha was eyeing Cymone with a similar expression. "I agree. But leave her to me. Two more words from you and we'd probably end up having to drag her as a quivering wreck. You're the mad feral, remember?"

Remus was only too happy to comply. "She's all yours."

With a subtle eye-roll, Felisha turned and stepped over to where her colleague remained cowering in the cupboard.

"Cymone?" she ventured softly with a smile. "Cymone, come on now, we have to go."

Cymone didn't budge. Her head shook vigorously, her eyes darting from Remus, to the door and then back into the safety of her hideaway.

_So much for softly softly._

Felisha's lips tightened, her shoulders abruptly firmed. Remus knew her Prefect look when he saw it. "Cymone," she said more insistently. "Cymone, come on we really don't have time for this. We have to get out of here before somebody else comes."

But Cymone just scooted a few more inches back, wrapping her arms around her knees as she shuddered.

_So much for tact_.

Felisha's jaw hardened, her eyes suddenly sharp. "Cymone." This tone was one of outright command. "_Get up._"

But the command was ignored but for Cymone's silent lip quivering beneath Felisha's glare.

Patience was thinning. And it was becoming obviously that little but blunt bullying was going to do the job.

And so Felisha _bullied._

"Cymone, so help me, if you don't get up, I will tie you up and float you down the stairs upside down until I can find a laundry chute to _stuff you down_. _Up! Now!"_

Bullying it seemed, was the key. With a startled shudder, Cymone staggered to her feet and stepped out of the cupboard, her eyes wide and terrified, her legs vibrating like shaken jelly. She was white as a sheet. A moment later, her fragile legs folded as she slumped back to the floor.

Remus sighed. Felisha joined him.

In the face of Cymone's imminent crumbling, Felisha opted for a slight moderation of tone.

"Look," the researcher ordered sternly. "We have to go and you're coming with us one way or another." At Cymone's silent gasp, she sighed. "I'll lift the silencing spell in a moment. But you have to promise me – absolutely _promise_ – that you _won't shout again_. Remus isn't dangerous and all we want is to get out of here. Don't do that again and we'll take you with us. _But_," she flourished her wand with menace. "Kick up another fuss and so help me, I'll stun you and _leave _you here for whatever may _come_. Understand?"

Remus regarded the researcher with a certain admiration. "Nice threat."

Felisha flashed a smile. "Thanks. Now, you…" She turned on Cymone. "Do I have your word?"

Cymone's expression continued to quiver. But then, slowly and reluctantly, she nodded her head.

"Good. _Sonorus_." Cymone gasped loudly and started to open her mouth, but a glare from Felisha quickly closed it again. Awkwardly, Rebekah's assistant clambered to her feet and reeled over to join them.

"Good. Now let's go."

With an uncomfortable glance back at Remus, Felisha pushed Cymone gently towards the door, propelling the podgy assistant with as much force as she dared. Moving quickly, Remus followed them as they headed into the silent corridor, listening for sounds of company, but for now at least, they seemed to be alone.

But for how much longer? And just what had happened to the rest of the Institute staff?

Just what did she know? He glanced at Cymone's pale features, her shuffling gate, the uncertain nervous jerking of her fingers and her nose. For an instant, he fought back a wave of oddness as he stared at her twitchy movements. There was something so very familiar, so very _prey-like_ about her…

_No. Stop that. It's just your imagination…_

Focus. This was no time to be indulging fears.

"Cymone," he said, in as soft and un-threatening manner as he could muster. The assistant jumped profoundly at the sound of her name but she did glance backwards without dissolving into hysterics for a second time.

"Y...yes?" she stammered awkwardly.

_Well at least she hasn't collapsed yet._ Remus decided to start gently. "Why were you in that cupboard?"

Cymone trembled. "I heard…s...s…something. I was scared and I h…h…hid. I thought you might be…"

"Thought we might be _what_?" Remus and Felisha spoke almost as one.

Cymone gulped. "W…whatever took the others," she managed shakily. "D…Dr Croll sent me to his o…office to get some notes and when I came back…" She swallowed again, harder. "W…when I came back, everyone was just _gone_. A…and then I h…heard someone coming and I hid."

"Us?" Felisha asked, her voice now milder once more.

"N…n…not you. I saw a black cloak. And t…they weren't voices I knew. S…so I stayed in the cupboard. After all, with P…Professor Goldstein just v…vanishing… I…I thought…"

Remus and Felisha exchanged a long, worried glance that clearly spoke of Death Eaters.

"You did the right thing," Felisha reassured her moderately. "We won't hurt you, Cymone. But the voices you heard, the men in black cloaks?_ They_ would."

Cymone swallowed hard. "I…I'm sorry I got s…so upset. B…but it's all so _h…horrible_."

Felisha breathed out, hard. "You can say that again. And that's why we need to get out of here."

Reception, when they reached it, was thankfully deserted. The grills that lead to the stairwell and the lift, the former open and the latter sealed, glinted in the pale light.

Felisha's eyes flicked from one silver grill to the other. "Lift or stairs?"

"Lift." Cymone piped up before Remus had the chance to speak. "It's quicker. _Much_ quicker."

"And more confined." Cymone ducked her head as Remus intervened. "And easier to be trapped in. At least on the stairs you can _run_."

Felisha nodded. "I agree. We take the stairs."

Cymone was staring into the dark and unlit shadows of the stairwell with distinct unease. "C…couldn't I take the l…lift and you take the s…stairs?"

At Felisha's long, slow look, she groaned slightly. "Stairs," she repeated wearily.

"Come on. I'll take the lead." Remus moved forwards before Felisha could protest, placing one foot gingerly onto the top step and glancing back. Reluctantly, Cymone moved forwards to follow him. A moment later, Felisha took the rear.

Darkness surged around then. The silence deafened.

It was not the most pleasant of journeys. The only source of light to guide their steps came through the grills that punctuated every level, a pale sickly illumination that did not so much light their ways as dull the shadows. And each grill was a new delay for each had to be checked for guards or Death Eaters or Dementors before passing by and risking the grimness of discovery.

But each level was deserted.

"Where are they?" Felisha's whisper drifted softly from above and behind as they made their cautious way past the grill on Level Three and started down the next dark stairs. "Where is everyone?"

"I'm not complaining." Remus' voice was a hush of breath. "As long as they aren't all waiting at the bottom."

"I wish I knew that Avin was safe."

There was a tremulous note to Felisha's tone. Remus sighed softly as he quietly stepped onto the next half-landing and turned the corner down the last set of steps to Level Two. "I wish we did too," he replied gently. "But we're doing the right thing. We're no use to him here. We need to bring…"

His voice tailed away. He stopped dead.

And grasped the banister sharply as first Cymone and then Felisha piled into the back of him. His toes teetered for an instant on the edge but thankfully he did not fall. A moment later, Felisha's fingers dragged him back to safety as her curly head appeared at his side.

"Remus, what…?" she started but the rise of Remus' pointing finger negated the question.

"See for yourself," he replied.

Felisha followed his gaze. And gasped.

For at the foot of the steps lay the wand-sealed hatch that had so nearly proved their downfall weeks before.

And it was _open_.

"That can't be good." Felisha's lips spoke the words that were passing through Remus' mind. "That just…_can't _be good."

A quick survey with both magic and eyes established that yet again, the corridor beyond the grill was empty. Certain now that it was safe to proceed, Felisha and Remus abandoned the bemused Cymone at the top of the flight of stairs and moved quickly down to investigate.

The initial survey established little more than they had already observed.

"The hatch has been opened," Remus stated rather redundantly as he examined the flimsy locking mechanism that the released wand seal had exposed. "And…" At his gesture, Felisha stepped back slightly, her wand raised in a protective manner as Remus carefully braced his hands against the edge of the hole and slowly eased his head inside. "It looks like an ordinary enough laundry chute," he reported, his voice echoing hollowly against the metal plates that lined the drop, falling away into darkness beneath him. "I can't see anything out of…"

"_Lupin_?"

Remus froze. Had he just heard…?

"_Lupin!"_ Dear Gods, he _had_ just heard. "_Lupin, is that you? Lupin, get us out of here! Lupin!_"

The voice came from far below, vibrating in a tinny manner against the walls of the chute that surrounded him, twisting, tumbling upwards to touch distorted against his ears. But Remus recognised it instantly and Felisha's gasp at his side told him that she had recognised it too.

_Oh Great Merlin, what on earth is going on?_

He opened his mouth to reply. "_Rebek_…"

"_Incarcerous!_"

He felt his arms slam to his sides, the course burn of thick rope as it whipped across his skin, binding his arms against his torso and smacking his ankles together. He tried to cry out but the rope had already slapped across his lips, silencing him instantly. He heard a brief, female squeal, felt the slump of a weight across his back as the first voice screamed "_Accio_ wand!" and then a hand shoved against his back and pushed inevitably forwards.

Headfirst, Remus Lupin plunged down the laundry chute.

Pain, sharp and rapid assailed him bruisingly as he bounced against the hard-edged walls, tumbling, careening, head over heel and then suddenly there was space, there was air and he was hurtling frantically downwards until the solid floor stilled him with a bone-crunching impact. Even as he gasped, groaning against his bindings, another heavy weight smacked into his stomach, driving the wind from his lungs.

He opened his eyes and stared up into the terrified, bewildered and equally bound up face of Felisha Hathaway.

And then came hands. Small and gentle, they eased the two bruised tumblers apart, teasing the ropes from their faces and mouths as they eased them slowly upright.

Remus looked around him. It wasn't an especially large room, grey walled and windowless just as the rest of the Institute was. But its most outstanding feature was its notable lack of a door.

Apart, of course, from the bodies.

They lay all around him, slumped in varying postures, eyes closed, their breathing shallow. A quick glance was enough to spy Zelia Phelan slumped in a corner, Unwin Dempster face down a few yards to her left, Alexander Aylward lying on his side against the wall and in the middle of the floor, Avin Falconer and Arcadius Croll lay motionless side by side. There were others there, faces Remus had seen but never spoken too, all dressed in the various coloured robes of the different departments of the Institute, all unconscious, all still. And in the far corner, curled whimpering and alone was…

Remus stared. Stared in horror. Stared in terrible realisation.

Cymone Wrigley lay curled in a ball, her plump features wasted by apparent long-term neglect, her glasses gone, her hair no longer dyed bright red but her natural reddish-brown, cut and hacked in hagged clumps, leaving only the occasional stray curl.

Stray curls just like the one in Polyjuice drawer.

_It wasn't Rebekah. It wasn't Rebekah they replaced_….

_Oh no. Oh no, no, no_…

Hands loosened his ropes once more. And this time, a face came to join them.

Rebekah Goldstein smiled at him wanly. Her face was pale. Her eyes were haunted.

"Well, Professor Lupin," she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "I think this is one family reunion we could have both stood to miss."

**A/N**: Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week – **Kailin, Jump Highly, xMissxUnderstoodx, slightly so, EllaJ.W, wizardelfgirl, Vervada, aurelie1, felixgirl, Rel Fexive, kitkatgirl11, phoenixtear19, Pickledishkiller, TheJazz, Snowfall, purebristles, krumfan, Howling-wolf, morgan, sayan-P, sylthian, le petit chou, Zevazo, Ruby, YourEvilOverlord, Mandalen, Gilpin, NaturallyInsane, Stephthemagicdragon, Oath of Feanor, Conn JS1, miss mcGonagle, Paloma, Girl Who Writes, KnightMara **and **Yoshi with a bazooka**! What nice people you all are. :)

Review responses for the previous chapter can be found on my live journal. Links on my profile. :)

I am aware that several of my reviewers have guessed various plot points revealed in this chapter but in all honesty, I can't actually remember who's said what anymore! But if you did catch me out, I offer my heartiest congratulations to you over clever sods ahem brilliant and insightful people...;)


	30. The Rogues Gallery

_**30: The Rogue's Gallery**_

It really was a truly _epic_ pile of work.

Tonks took a deep breath as she faced down the mountainous heap of scrolls and parchment laid out upon her desk, praying quietly that somehow it would shrink, or reduce itself until she didn't have to face the prospect of wading through it sheet by sheet. For an instant, she wished for a baby dragon; Hagrid and Charlie Weasley had both mentioned that they made excellent flamethrowers. Or perhaps a couple of generous Ashwinders could set fire to her desk – and maybe ignite Dawlish while they were at it. Hell, she'd even take flobberworms if they could be persuaded to chew paper instead of lettice…

_Oh well. No point in wishing for what I can't have_…

Unwelcome thoughts crowded in once more. She forced them away.

_No. I'm not going to think about him. I have work to do_.

_No Remus. No Remus. No Remus._

_Work._

Brusquely, determinedly, she reached for the topmost file, where a photograph of a lumpy-looking little man leered at her.

**Amycus Grint. Born 13th September 1947 in Dorchester, Dorset. Slytherin House, Hogwarts.** **Known associate of Lucius Malfoy, brother to Alecto. Specialises in**…

She just didn't _understand_ the stupid git. He loved her. She knew he loved her. Bloody hell, even _he _knew he loved her, if he could only wake up and stop hiding behind whatever damned excuse first sprang to mind. Why couldn't he have just accepted it? _Why _did he push her away?

…**rarely known to perform solo missions, Grint has previously worked under the command of other Death Eaters such as… **

Tonks tossed the file aside. Amycus Grint was a lackey, a sycophant. He wouldn't have had the guts to turn in someone like Bellatrix, even anonymously. She reached for the next one, a stocky little woman whose photograph giggled inanely.

**Alecto Grint. Born 27th February 1950 in Dorchester, Dorset. Slytherin House, Hogwarts. Sister to Amycus, one time housekeeper to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Claimed use of the Imperius curse to escape imprisonment at the end of the last war. Specialisms include**…

It wasn't as though she didn't know what she was getting herself into. She had known he was a werewolf from the day she had first crossed his path at Grimmauld Place – as an Auror, she always read the papers, whether she believed what was in them or not, and his name had featured quite prominently the year before. And with the exception of his father and Albus Dumbledore, she was pretty bloody certain that she knew him better than anyone alive. But somehow, this time, just what it was that he was afraid of continued to elude her.

…**vindictive streak but is known to act in partnership with her brother…**

Tonks discarded Alecto's file with a flick of her wrist. It seemed that to rule out one sibling was to rule out the other. From the next picture, a hard-faced man glared out at her.

**Valerian Gibbon**. **Born in Lincoln, 2nd April 1956**. **Slytherin House, Hogwarts**. **A known associate of the Lestrange family, Gibbon is believed to have hidden in Europe until recently, possibly in the company of Mingan-Moritz. A former human guard of Azkaban, Gibbon is known to have a stronger than average resistance to the effects of Dementors. Specialist curses include**…

It was sheer stubbornness on his part. It was _ridiculous_. If he had just admitted it, let himself believe… Or if he had at least given her some kind of excuse she could _work_ with. Oh, he'd said it wasn't the right time, but that was just plain dodging; she needed a proper reason for his rejection of her love, something she could get her teeth into, something she could fight, discard and argue away until he had nowhere left to hide from her. Something she could use to make him see how _stupid_ this was.

…**former school-friend of Rodolphus Lestrange and Best Man at his wedding to Bellatrix Black…**

Unless something drastic had happened, it didn't seem especially likely that Rodolphus' Best Man would have turned his wife over to the Aurors. Gibbon's file joined the Grints with a skid.

A prim young man with slicked back brown hair and a haughty expression over clean-shaven cheeks gazed up at her from the next file with a sardonic tilt of one eyebrow.

**Adolphus Mingan-Moritz, Count of Liebrucker. Born in Vienna, Austria, 14th October 1961. Student at Durmst… **

The prim man smiled at her slickly, his eyes cold. And Tonks hesitated. There was something awfully familiar about that smile…

Leaning forward for a better look, she deposited her elbow on the abandoned pile of files to her left.

It was a shame that the files were not entirely on her desk.

Down plunged the files and Tonks' elbow, which inconveniently and most inconsiderately decided to take the rest of Tonks with it. And as her free hand grabbed out instinctively for purchase, it landed upon the remainder of the parchment pile.

The avalanche that followed was deeply impressive.

For a few moments, all Tonks could do was crouch, hands protectively poised over her head as wave after wave of paperwork cascaded down upon her. A particularly tinny jolt told her that her beloved box of biscuits had joined the party, breaking open to scatter distressing quantities of chocolate fragments and crumbs across the already significant mess. A moment later, finally, the document waterfall dried away to nothing, leaving only the quiet and familiar patter of the impressed applause of her fellow Aurors at the show.

Slowly, wearily, Tonks opened her eyes.

"_Bugger_," she said.

Resting against the edge of her nose, the blackened tip-off note rocked gently back and forth in the swell of her breathing. Shouldering lingering files away from her body, Tonks extended one arm and lifted it away.

_Why_ did she have to be so bloody clumsy? _This _was why she hated paperwork; it always made such a bloody mess when the inevitable finally happened. Even that time on the train with Remus, coming back from the Institute when she dropped her papers all over the floor…

Her eyes focussed on the tip off note, still gripped between two fingers just above her nose. And she froze.

The handwriting. She _knew _this handwriting.

She had seen it scrawled in a red diary in Rebekah Goldstein's office.

The Death Eater who had betrayed Bellatrix Lestrange was working in the Feral Institute.

Shaking away crumbs and loose fragments of paper, Tonks pushed herself to sitting. No. She had to be mistaken, it _couldn't_ be. If Bellatrix was Rebekah, what purpose would it serve to turn _herself_ in to the authorities? Which could only mean one of two things – _another _conspirator in the Institute had written the diary and set up Bellatrix or Bellatrix Lestrange had not been Rebekah after all.

Tonks felt a cold chill settle in her stomach. Why was it that every time they seemed to find a piece of this puzzle, they ended up losing three more?

Brushing chocolate from her mousy hair, Tonks reached out for the nearest file. It was Adolphus again, smudged with chocolate and crumbs – Merlin, Dawlish was going to kill her if he saw this mess! – his face filled with rage as he stared indignantly at a smear of chocolate slapped across his chin…

Like a beard.

Like a _goatee._

And that smile had been _so_ familiar.

The cold chill turned to solid ice. _Oh good God_…

The face, framed by slick brown hair, was younger, the beard missing until filled in by chocolate, but there was no mistaking him now.

Dolph Greymoor.

Adolphus Mingan-Moritz, the Austrian Death Eater, was _Dolph bloody Greymoor._

Oh. Crap.

Her eyes burrowed into the file.

**Adolphus Mingan-Moritz, Count of Liebrucker. Born in Vienna, Austria, 14th October 1960. Student at Durmstrang, House unknown. A school-friend of Antonin Dolohov, Mingan-Moritz is known to be an expert in the casting of the Imperius curse, especially on multiple subjects simultaneously. He is also a well-informed scholar of Dark Creatures, particularly working with Dementors and werewolves. After the fall of You-Know-Who, he fled to Europe in the company of Gibbon and disappeared. Rumours that he was working in the vicinity of the Black Forest have abounded in the 1990s but his exact location remains unconfirmed at present. Sources have also indicated some manner of personal dispute with Bellatrix Lestrange, but the details remain unknown.**

Further details of his activities during the First War and suspected victims continued below but Tonks did not read on. She had already seen enough.

Remus had been right. She had been so focussed on proving Rebekah to the danger that she had given barely a thought to _Dolph_. But it fitted so neatly – research with werewolves in the Black Forest could have easily lead to an accidental bite. And then, as he returned to his newly risen Master in England, he had fallen foul of the feral laws somehow and been locked away…

Had it been deliberate, the bite, the capture, a way to get inside? No, Tonks couldn't see Dolph – _Adolphus_ – as the kind who would have willing submitted himself to that kind of indignity. His incarceration then, was most likely an accident. But then how he managed to write notes to be found in Rebekah's office? He must have gained a wand back in order to have such freedom, but from where?

From an ally. From someone who came into the Institute to help him.

From another Death Eater.

But who?

There was still the Polyjuice, still the theory of Bellatrix-as-Rebekah. But it no longer seemed to fit. Tonks could not see her aunt as an adjunct to anyone, let alone someone that sources had implied she disliked and feuded with. It did, however, make rather more sense of Bellatrix's capture. Had Dolph turned her in as some kind of revenge?

Or as some kind of _distraction_?

Tonks felt the blood run from her cheeks. Tonight was the full moon. And there had been an attempt to take Remus only a few days before…

What if Dolph needed a free rein, something to take the eyes of the Order away from the Feral Institute? And what if he had turned in Bellatrix to cover for himself?

You-Know-Who would probably _kill_ him. Unless he had already succeeded in producing a valuable werewolf army in her place and providing him with the Order's tame werewolf as a prize…

And Remus was at Hogwarts. Dumbledore _wasn't._

She needed to get to Remus. And Dumbledore. _Now_.

"Can't I leave you alone for a minute?"

Her head snapped up at the deep, familiar tone. Kingsley was staring down at her dishevelled form with a grin on his face.

"Honestly," he chuckled. "You have got to be the most accident prone…"

"Remus is in danger!" In a flurry of paper and crumbs, Tonks rocketed to her feet, her momentum causing Kingsley to take a startled step backwards. "Kingsley, you have to go get Dumbledore and I've got to go, I've got to go to Hogwarts and warn him…"

She started forwards but her treacherous feet tangled in the mess and sent her hurtling over – only Kingsley's quick reflexes saved her from another fall. His big hands clamped around her shoulders, the big man hauled her back to her feet, all trace of laughter wiped from his face in an instant.

"Tonks, what have you found?" he said intensely.

"This." Tonks shoved Adolphus' file into his hands. Kingsley took it and flicked it open, his brow creasing in confusion.

"What am I looking at?" he queried urgently.

Tonks met his eyes. "Dolph Greymoor."

It took a moment, but then memories of briefings on the Institute returned and Kingsley's eyes widened in horror. "The werewolf from the Institute? He's…" His eyes snapped back to the file. "Oh bloody hell," he breathed softly. "Mingan-Moritz has been off the radar so long, I never even thought to look at his file. But it fits. He's blind-sided us with his condition. _Damn!_" With a slap, he slammed the file shut. "But I don't see how this affects Remus…"

The urge to shove Kingsley aside and belt as fast as she could for the floo was surging rapidly through Tonks' veins but she forced herself to resist it. "It's _his handwriting!_" She flourished the tip-off note, still gripped between her fingers. "It's the same as the handwriting in the diary in the Institute. And it says he has a grudge against her – it had to be him!"

Kingsley was shaking his head. "They're on the same side. Why would he…"

"As a _distraction!_" Why couldn't he _see_? "He knew we'd be so busy with her, we'd forget the Institute for this one night, the _full moon night_. And he _knew_ that Dumbledore would leave Hogwarts. I'm sure the Headmaster is the only reason they've never tried to use a legal warrant to get Remus before and with him out of the way…" She grabbed the sleeve of Kingsley's robe. "We need Dumbledore."

Kingsley's expression was agonised. "But we _can't get him_!" At Tonks' shocked look, he elaborated. "When I spoke to him, he was just going in to a closed session of the Wizengamot. You know the law, Tonks, they _can't _be disturbed during that. And it could be hours yet…"

"We have to do something." Tonks' heart was pounding twenty to the dozen "We have to do something _now_."

_He'll be fine. He has to be fine. I'll get to Hogwarts and he'll be standing there with a bemused look on his face and I'll tell him what a prat he is and he'll see sense and_…

"I agree." Kingsley's jaw locked as his two words cut away her scrambled thoughts. "I'll scramble Moody and some of the Order just in case we need a rescue organised. You head up to Hogwarts and warn Remus. Maybe it won't be too late."

"Already going." With an undignified stumble, Tonks pushed her way past her friend and with a single nod, hurled herself towards the fireplace and its floo connection.

_He'll be there. He'll be fine. He'll be there. He'll be fine_.

_Don't let our last words have been an argument_.

_Don't let me lose him now_.

Robards was standing near the hearth – he caught her as she stumbled, giving her a confused look as she snapped out thanks and grabbed a handful of green powder from the shelf. With a swipe of her hand, she hurled it into the flames.

"The Three Broomsticks!"

Green flames flared. A moment later, Tonks had thrown herself into their grasp.

_He'll be fine. Please. He'll be fine_.

_I don't know what I'll do if he's not_.

And then the flames consumed her and thrust her on her way.

**A/N**: Again, I believe a couple of you may have caught me on a few of these revelations and to you observant types, I offer congratulations...:)

Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week; **felixgirl, Alexia S Luclwit, xMissxUnderstoodx, Oath of Feanor, wizardelfgirl, Jump Highly, Mee-Yah, thee-unknown-factor, Paloma, Rel Fexive, The Jazz, Lady Slytherin3, NaginiFay, Ruby, EllaJ.W, elka78, Lola Ravenhill, RebeccaGoose, krumfan, le petit chou, Lucathia Rykatu, pstibbons, Pickledishkiller, blacklady, phoenixtear19, Zevazo, Howling-Wolf, WMG, Kailin, Kitana, sylthian, Lady Bracknell, kitkatgirl11, purebristles, Leonew, Gilpin, aurelie1, wcoast-girl, Snowfall, Mandalen, morgan **and **Camilinha** (see, there's your name! ;)). It was very nice of you all to offer your generous remarks (can anyone tell that I'm running out of new and interesting ways to say this? ;))


	31. The Organised Mind

_**31: The Organised Mind**_

_I have to get out of here_.

Remus Lupin stared blankly up at the row of iron bars that had clanked down over the opening of the laundry chute moments after his tumble, biting his lip as he fought against the almost overwhelming urge to pace the room like the caged animal he had become. He felt confined, restricted, more so than even in his cell, despite the greater size of this prison, the walls seeming to press inwards as he slowly suffocated…

_I can't stay here. I can't stay here. I can't stay_.

_It's coming_.

"I still can't believe it. _Dolph_." Felisha's voice was a welcome distraction – Remus turned his attention almost desperately to where she was sitting, cradling the still unconscious Avin's head within her lap. Beside her, Rebekah Goldstein had just finished rolling the limp form of Croll onto his back as she reached down and lightly slapped each of his cheeks in rapid succession in search of some kind of reaction. Remus only just managed to fight down the urge to rush over and emphatically join in with the violence.

"I'm afraid so." There was a weary, almost resigned note to Rebekah's tone that was deeply unfamiliar. "And I was worse than useless when it came to stopping him."

_Calm down. You have to calm down. Rational. Be rational_.

"It wasn't your fault." Remus was really quite impressed at the level quality he managed to instil into his tone. "The Imperius curse is a powerful thing. It takes a witch or wizard of exceptional natural ability to shake it off."

Rebekah stared miserably at the floor. "I tried," she whispered softly, almost to herself. "I tried _so hard_. Once or twice I even managed it but it never _lasted_. It's like I've spent the last few months swimming in quicksand – even if I managed to surface, just for a moment, his spell always sucked me down again and there I was, doing whatever he told me."

Now that was a feeling that Remus could certainly relate to. The helplessness of watching as your body performed the actions of another mind was his monthly nightmare.

_Don't think about that now. Calm. Controlled_.

"It wasn't your fault," he repeated again, his voice rife with sincerity. "There was nothing more you could have done."

Echoing the sympathetic sentiment, Felisha reached out and placed one hand softly against Rebekah's arm. "The main thing is that you did _try_," she said, her voice quiet but reassuring. "And you sent a note to the Aurors. That must have taken more than a _moment _of clarity."

"And what good did that do in the end?" There was bitterness laced through Rebekah's voice. "I couldn't even tell them what was happening. All I managed was an incomplete warning about a meeting I heard Dolph telling my little shadow _Chuckles_ to attend with someone called Gibbon. And then the spell kicked back in and I nearly maimed that poor owl to _death_ trying to keep it from taking off. I even threw a potion at it, for Merlin's sake! And then when I tried to write what was happening to me, I barely managed to scrawl down two words before Dolph caught me. He made sure I wasn't alone much after that. I'm sure Chuckles was sick of the sight of me."

Questions seemed a good distraction from his growing anxiety. "Chuckles?"

Rebekah's smile was humourless. "That's what I called her – or him, I guess it could be, I've never seen a face. The one who replaced Cymone a few months back and started this whole nightmare." Her eyes flicked sadly to the sorrowful form of her true assistant, still curled in a ball in her corner; a drowsy looking pale blonde woman in the uniform of a caretaker was muttering soothing words to her. "The name seemed apt somehow. Chuckles does most of Dolph's donkeywork and doesn't she let you know it – I don't think I've ever heard such a steady stream of complaints in my _life_. She's the one he used to keep an eye on me, to spy, to make sure I wasn't showing any more signs of breaking free." She paused painfully, her eyes drifting far away. "He needed me too much to let that happen."

Remus fought down a chill. "Experiments."

Rebekah nodded. "Experiments. Even as ombudsman, he'd never have been allowed on Level Six to run his Imperius experiments on Kane himself. And he couldn't have me replaced – he needed my brain, my knowledge of werewolves and the Institute, or there was no point. And when I wouldn't work for him willingly…"

She shuddered deeply. Felisha's reassuring hand squeezed her arm gently once more as she spoke. "One thing I don't understand," she ventured. "You say Cymone was replaced not long after Christmas?"

Rebekah nodded slowly. "That's right."

Felisha sighed. "But Dolph's been here for nearly a _year_. Why would he be waiting around here so long doing nothing? He wasn't even made ombudsman until a few months ago."

_Don't pace. Don't snap. Breathe and calm_.

_You know what's coming. You know what you have to ask_.

Remus clasped his hands almost viciously behind his back. "It's true, isn't it?" he intervened with slightly more force than he had intended. "That story he told about being bitten in the Black Forest and coming here for help. But he wasn't coming for Wolfsbane, was he? He was coming to _Voldemort_."

Rebekah shivered noticeably at the name. "I think so. I know his arrest in London was genuine enough – he was a recently bitten werewolf that had a feral incident in front of half a dozen witnesses. From what I've overheard, I don't think _You-Know-Who_ even knew he was here until he sent Chuckles in as Cymone to find out what sort of state his ally Kane had been left in. It was pure luck for them that they crossed paths. And once they had, and Dolph had got a wand back…" She closed her eyes. "These last few months have been _horrendous_. He made me stay away from my family as much as possible, in case they noticed any change or I managed to let something slip to them. And it was his orders that meant I had to be so nasty to you, Profess…" She broke off, opening her eyes once more to meet her cousin's gaze. "_Remus_," she expelled forcefully. "He needed to keep your eyes on me so that no suspicions would fall elsewhere. But I admit - when the first thing he had me do was send you the invitation to come to the Institute, I wasn't happy at all. Much of the sentiment I expressed to you was genuine – I _do_ think you endangered my son and I don't think it's fair that you lived while my mother and brother died." She hardened her jaw. "But if I had been free to act as I chose – I like to think I would have at least given you a _chance_." Her lip quirked slightly. "If it helps at all – you're not as bad as I thought you'd be."

Remus managed a wan smile but it wasn't easy as a tumult of frantic emotion surged within his chest. But at the mention of their family link, a thought had battled its way to the forefront of his mind.

"It was you that killed Kane, wasn't it?" he stated softly. "Not Dolph. You."

Rebekah's eyes flared with a strange cocktail of pain, remorse and satisfaction. "Yes," she admitted shakily. "He was their test subject – the whole basis for Dolph's Imperius experiments. You know the only reason he invited you here was to make sure that Kane was really gone? He was worried trying the curse through me without being sure might rebound on him somehow or make him lose his grip on me."

Remus nodded with difficulty – _Dammit! Concentrate!_ - as Rebekah sighed.

"But it didn't and on went the experiments." Almost absently, she gave Croll's face another slap. "And then one day, it occurred to me that maybe if Kane was dead, the work would be over – they wouldn't be able carry on anymore. And one way or another, I'd be _free_."

Remus couldn't help but observe the chilling note of desperation in her voice. "So you poisoned him."

"I _tried_." Rebekah's eyes lifted towards the blank ceiling. "I managed to hold off the curse long enough to take a vial of toxin from Zelia's stores and mix it into his food one evening. But the spell held me back and it wasn't enough – he started to recover the next day. So somehow, I found the strength to dose him again. And that _was_ enough. He died later that afternoon."

"I remember you getting the message." Remus nodded once more as he clenched his hands together behind his back almost into fists. _Stop procrastinating, Lupin. You know what's going to happen. You know what you'll have to ask them_…

"I can't say I'm sorry he's dead." Rebekah's gaze dropped once more. "He killed my mother and brother. But I wouldn't have killed him. Not if I'd had any other choice." Her voice was shaking distinctly now. "But in the end, all I did was make things _worse_. I speeded their programme along. I didn't know that Dolph had access to Dementors and now he has the residents caged for the moon, he can make as many test subjects as he likes…"

Felisha's face was pale. "My God. We have to get out of here."

_No bloody kidding_. Remus clamped down upon his lips with his teeth in order to prevent an inappropriate retort. It wasn't their fault; it wasn't the fault of anyone in this room that he was going to have to...

_But you'll still have to ask them. You know you will_.

_It's you or them._

_Now. Do it now. You're not going to have much longer vulnerable_…

He stared for a moment at Felisha's washed out face, at Rebekah's weary eyes. An old friend newly found with the man she loved cradled in her lap, a cousin tired and worn by suppression, the haunting of one death writ large within her eyes. How could he ask either of them to…?

"Leish?"

For an instant, Remus wondered if he'd spoken without realising. But then Felisha gave a low cry as she bent over Avin, his eyelids fluttering as he took several deep breaths. Beside him, Croll also gave a sudden groan.

"They're coming round!" All at once, Rebekah scrambled, suddenly energised, to her feet. "Pro…Remus, help me!"

And as groans and confused muttering began to rise from all directions, Remus realised the moment had passed.

But it would come again. It had to.

He didn't have much choice. And he certainly didn't have much longer.

All in all, it took about half an hour for the staff of the Feral Institute to fully regain consciousness. And as words were exchanged and stories told, a clearer picture of what had befallen them began to emerge.

"The _candles_?" Croll's sneer echoed across the chamber, interrupting a variety of conversations as all attention turned to him. "Don't be ridiculous, Lupin. How on earth could somebody _drug_ a _candle_?"

Remus was finding it increasingly difficult not to reach out one hand and casually swipe Croll's nose off. "I've seen it done before," he managed through gritted teeth. "I had some friends who once succeeded in sending an entire class at Hogwarts to sleep by treating a candlewick and brewing special wax that was laced with a powerful sedative. When the candles burned, the sedative filled the air and sent everyone in the room to sleep almost simultaneously."

Felisha, who had not released Avin's hand since his return to consciousness, widened her eyes almost comically. "Fifth year," she said with a hint of a smile. "A class of Slytherins in Divination. And I have a sneaking suspicion about who those _friend_s might be – and that a certain somebody not a million miles from here might not have been completely innocent either."

For a moment, the memory almost allowed Remus to relax slightly. "It was Sirius' idea," he returned with mock defensiveness and a slight smile of his own. "He and James brewed the drug and I mixed it into the wax and poured it into the candle moulds. And then Peter kept watch while we snuck up the tower the night before the class and planted them. Everyone knew the Professor always lit the candles at the start of every lesson and the drug was carefully brewed so that no one would even notice that they were dropping off until they had. James and Sirius were very proud of that brew. They found the recipe in a textbook in the Restricted Section."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure we're all _very_ impressed by your juvenile schoolboy antics." Croll's sneer efficiently destroyed the last lingering hint of Remus' moment of calm. "But that hardly seems relevant unless you and your friends decided to sneak into the Institute and pull the same trick on us."

Remus' expression hardened. _Don't hit him, don't hit him… I know it's tempting, but just don't_… "The point," he stated acidly, "…is that if four schoolboys were able to find such a spell, I'm sure a Death Eater with sufficient dark connections certainly wouldn't have a problem. And considering what Zelia told us…"

Croll snorted. "Coincidence."

"It was not!" Wild haired and more frazzled looking than usual, Zelia Phelan pushed her way through the score of bewildered faces, until she was at the fore of them all. "I'm telling you, Dolph Greymoor was there when I brewed that batch of candles! And I left him alone in the room for five minutes – I even asked him watch the brew for me! And just this morning, I found some of my sedative was missing but I didn't have time to investigate before…"

This time it was old Unwin Dempster who huffed in disdain. "Yes, because you're so damned organised, lassie. You're as likely to dumped that sedative in yourself by mistake…"

Zelia gave a cry of protest. For a few moments, the gabble of conflicting voices was nearly enough to drive Remus insane.

"Quiet!" The word had lashed out almost before Remus had realised he had spoken. As bewildered faces turned on him once more, he took a desperate breath to calm himself.

"I believe this was deliberate," he stated softly. "But however the sedative got into the candles is frankly academic. All that matters now is that it _did_."

"And for what purpose?" Croll rolled his eyes. "How did they know we'd call a meeting? How did they know we'd all be there?"

"They knew _you_, Arcadius." Rebekah's stern tone quelled Croll's protests quite effectively as all eyes turned to the head of the Institute. "They knew that the moment I disappeared, you'd want to assert your control and you'd want everyone to know it. Dolph knew you'd call everyone to a meeting to prove that you were in charge. He played you just like he played the rest of us."

Mutters of assent ran rampant through the watching staff, nodding heads and pointed looks abounding. Croll's mouth closed sharply with a clunk in the face of such overwhelming agreement.

He swallowed hard. "Rubbish," he managed, but without much conviction. "Utter rubbish."

"Oh _shut up_, Croll." It was clear from Avin's tone that this was something he'd longed to say for quite some time. "I saw Cymone – well, _sort of Cymone_ – rushing out of the room just as I entered – right before she stunned me, in fact. Why do you think she was so keen to leave so soon after the candles were lit?"

"Exactly." Remus forced himself to take deep breaths. _Not quite yet. They'll just panic_. _But soon. And maybe…_"And what good is arguing about it going to do us anyway? What we need is to get out of here. _Now_."

Avin paused thoughtfully. "Maybe it would help if we knew how we got in?" he suggested with a shrug.

"Down there." Rebekah gestured to the chute. "They levitated you down one by one from Level Five. I had to keep moving you all to avoid an awful pile up."

"I don't think we'll be levitating back up there in a hurry." Avin sighed as he exchanged a glance with Felisha. "Not without wands. And even if we could reach the bars, I'd bet they're spelled somehow." He glanced around. "I guess that leaves breaking through a wall."

"We wouldn't need to get far." Rebekah's voice was thoughtful as she deliberately ignored Croll's disdainful snort at the suggestion. "The nearest portkey on this level is only a few corridors away. If we could just get through this wall and…"

_Futile. No portkeys. We need a better way than_…

"We have no portkeys." Before Remus could even open his mouth to quash this hopeful plan, Alexander Aylward's intervention beat him to it. The tall, stern man's expression was solemn, even haunted. "I smashed them all last night."

There was a moment of terrible silence, broken by a rising crescendo of shocked murmuring. A field eyes of wheeled accusingly onto the chief of security.

"You _what_?" gasped Croll. "You _did what?_ You great hulking _imbecile_, why on earth did you…"

"It _wasn't my fault_." Aylward's snapped retort effectively slapped away the rest of Croll's tirade. "A week ago, while I was patrolling on Level Five, I ran into Dolph Greymoor ordering _Cymone_ to let him out of the building. When I challenged him, he drew a wand from his wrist support and cursed me." The tall man swallowed. "It was the Imperius curse."

But something in Aylward's voice had already told Remus more than enough about the security chief's fate. For he recognised the tone all too well.

You think yourself so high and mighty. And yet you can't even call yourself human… 

This is not the time to think about that. You'll have to ask soon.

But not yet.

"He made you lead the ambush against me last Sunday." Aylward's gaze snapped up to meet Remus' impressively steady gaze. "He and a couple of colleagues Imperiused you and a dozen villagers to try and kidnap me. That way, if anything went wrong, he wouldn't lose anyone valuable in an attack so close to Dumbledore."

Aylward nodded wearily. "I'm so sorry, Professor. He was running my head that night – speaking through me. And then last night, he had me destroy the portkeys. I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault." It was Rebekah's turn to speak with knowledgeable sincerity. "Don't worry, Alexander. There's nothing more you could have done."

Avin took a deep breath. "Well, that complicates things but it doesn't make them impossible. If we could free those bars somehow and maybe shimmy up the chute…"

"Will you _listen_ to yourself?" Croll's lashed interruption drove the muttering of the staff into instant silence once more. "Why _should _we leave? Why bother escaping and risking their wrath? There are Death Eaters up there, Dementors and werewolves – here at least we are safe! I say we wait here and see what happens. It's _the safest way_."

"I agree," the barking voice of Unwin cut off several half spoken protests. "We go up there, they'll kill us for sure. We lie low and maybe we'll get out of this alive."

The slight murmur of agreement was more alarming than any angry roar. _Oh you fools, don't you understand?_ "Safe for how long, Croll?" Remus' retort was icy cold. "Do you really think that they intend to let you survive the night?"

Croll gave a disdainful smirk. "If they were going to kill us, Lupin, don't you think they'd have killed us already? They had every chance in the boardroom to do away with us all. That fake Cymone had every chance to do away with you. No, it's obvious. They want us alive. And since they went to so much trouble to have me arrest you and bring you here, they want you alive too."

_How foolish can you be? You work with werewolves, you idiot, you must know what's coming_, _what's coming tonight_…

"They want you alive for a reason _for now_." Remus met his eyes with chillingly certainty. "And they want me for a reason too. And maybe I don't know the whole of it, but I'm sure now about one part."

The blood vanished almost instantly from Felisha's face as Remus met her eyes.

"Sport," she whispered.

"Sport." Remus gazed out at the now silent huddle of faces, the ashen Felisha, the irate Croll, the weary Rebekah, the solemn Aylward, the flustered Zelia , the sour Unwin and all those around them, young faces and silver haired, pale and flushed, frightened and angry, perhaps twenty people all in all staring back at him with a mixture of confusion and slow, horrified realisation.

All here. All watching.

All doomed.

_Now is the time. Now you must ask_. _Ask them before it's too late_.

Remus had never been so scared in all his life. But he knew he had no choice.

"Sport," he repeated softly, his eyes raking over their faces, one by one. "Entertainment. You all know what I am. I'm a _werewolf_. And tonight, in just an hour or so, the full moon will rise." He turned his gaze on Croll, intense, burrowing, pointed, as final realisation dawned across the medic's features. "And I haven't had my Wolfsbane today."

The silence was deathly. Croll's face slowly took on a distinctly greenish hue.

Remus raised his chin slowly. "They want to watch me fall," he said, his voice low and almost bland. "They want to see my face in the morning when I wake up, surrounded by all of your _remains_. They want to make my mind weak and ripe for domination. And they don't care who they kill to do it." He opened his hands slowly. "So, the choice we have is simply this. Either we find a way out of here in the very near future or…" He closed his eyes for a moment, just a moment, as he catalogued well-loved faces once more within his mind, his father, his mother, his students, Tonks. All lost to him now. All gone.

_It's too late for me. It's just too late_…

_I can't let this happen. It's the only way._

"Or…" he added softly, wearily, desperately, his eyes filled with pain. "Before the full moon rises, one of you is going to have to kill me."

**A/N**: Many thanks to my legion of loyal reviewer this week: Paloma, Godricgal, elka78, Howling-wolf, aurelie1, kitkatgal11, emmaD, xMissxUnderstoodx, TheJazz, krumfan, Rel Fexive, Oath of Feanor, Mandalen, Kailin, morgan, EllaJ.W, Zevazo, Pickledishkiller, phoenixtear19, Camilinha, sylthian, Wade Scott, Mee Yah, le petit chou, blacklady, Lii, felixgirl, YourEvilOverlord, birds of morrigan, Gilpin, Conn JS1, Ruby, Libeku Taganashi and Stravaganza! Thank you all:)

Now please don't hit me...;)

Review responses can be found as usual by following the link to my Livejournal on my profile. :)


	32. Once More Into The Breach

_**32: Once More Unto The Breach**_

_Gone._

_He's gone_.

_I'm too late_.

_Oh Merlin, I'm too late_…

Professor McGonagall was speaking again, her hand resting in gentle reassurance against her former student's shoulder, her features pale and drawn behind the familiar glint of her spectacles, but Tonks found that she no longer knew or cared what words she had to say. The worst had already been spoken.

_He's gone. He's gone_.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to beat her fists against the wall and then curl up in a corner and sob herself into unconsciousness. But she was an Auror. She was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. And sobbing and screaming and beating the wall would not bring Remus back again.

Because however bad she felt inside, however much she wanted to kick the walls or blast pointless holes in the ceiling, the floors, or even in Arcadius Croll, Nymphadora Tonks would _always_ do her job.

She caught a few snatches of McGonagall's words – "…_tried so hard to contact Kingsley Shacklebolt but every floo connection at the Ministry was jammed… sent an owl instead but it can't have arrived before you left…so very sorry, I did everything I could to stop them_…_noble act…gave up his wand…wanted to make sure the children didn't get harmed…_" and she nodded politely, flashing wan smiles at moments that seemed to require reassurances. One particular statement caught her ear – "…_unknown situation… Moody is making plans for a rescue… but we can't act until we hear from Dumbledore… sorry, Miss Tonks… contact you as soon as he calls_…" and she forced herself to grit her teeth and smile as she nodded, thanked her former teacher and made her excuses to escape down the hall outside Dumbledore's office where she and the professor had met. She caught a glimpse of McGonagall's worried eyes following her progress along the corridor but she did not turn back or change her course.

_He didn't fight. He didn't try. He even gave his bloody wand up! What was that idiot thinking? Earth to Remus, you damned well knew what the Death Eaters at the Institute are planning! You knew and you still…_

_You prat. That's what you are. A stupid, selfless, ridiculously over-noble prat!_ _For once in your life, Remus! For once in your life, why didn't you think about yourself?_

_But of course you didn't. You wouldn't be you if you did._

_You bloody prat._

But cursing about Remus' martyr complex was not going to make a difference now. He'd been there, in the Institute, for more than three hours already. And if Kingsley and McGonagall were correct, it would be several hours _more _before even the remotest attempt was made to get him out because the Order wanted the approval of a man who would not be leaving the his session of the Wizengamot until well into the afternoon.

And tonight was the full moon.

And that was the thought that broke her resolve.

_A room. That's what I need. A nice, quiet room. Somewhere I can have a damned good scream about stupid, self-sacrificing prats and the bloody slowness of the Wizengamot…_

A tapestry caught her eye as she stalked passed – the familiar outline of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed repeatedly by angry trolls. For a moment, she paused, backtracking to stare at the image, wondering if perhaps taking a club and having a nice rampage through the corridors would make her feel better; but in the end she concluded that McGonagall probably wouldn't appreciate her beheading suits of armour and terrorising paintings and so she turned and began to move on.

_Merlin damn it all to Hell! I need to hit something! I need to scream!_

And then she saw the door.

Tonks would have sworn on her mother's life that it hadn't been there a mere moment before. But there was something oddly tempting about the glint of its handle and the lustre of its wood and before she gave herself time to think about it, the Auror had reached out and pulled it open.

And it was _perfect_.

It was windowless, the walls, ceiling and floor carefully lined with thick padding and the floor scattered with cushions of just the softness and consistency to make beating them, slapping them and hurling them immensely satisfying without either damage or pain. And as she passed across the threshold, all hint of the distant sounds of Hogwarts vanished in an instant behind a spell that dampened sound. It was, in short, a venting room.

_Merlin, I wish I'd known this was here during my OWLs_…

A plump red cushion lay temptingly just a few yards in front of her. It looked eminently kickable.

The thud as it struck the wall was good, better than one might expect from a thickly padded wall. But it wasn't enough.

Not by a long shot.

"Bloody hell, Remus!" A yellow cushion flew in a wide arc.

"What were you thinking?" An emerald cushion was subjected to the battering of two small fists.

"What's the matter with you?" A foot slapped against the heavily padded wall.

"Why did you just go?" A blue cushion was slammed against the floor.

"Why didn't you fight them?" Two cushions, purple and pink, were battered in repeated succession against a corner.

"Why did you fight me?" The pink cushion walloped into the back of the door with a bang. The purple cushion bounced off the ceiling.

"Why wouldn't you kiss me?" Yellow, green, blue, red – one after another, cushions ricocheted off the wall to form a forlorn looking pile.

"Why wouldn't you say it? The pile scattered in all directions as hands and feet piled into its mass like a dervish.

"Why wouldn't you say that you love me?" An unfortunate orange cushion fell within her grasp, victim of a repeated onslaught by palms and fists and fingernails, the stitching ripping and groaning against the strain.

"Why the hell did I have to go and fall for you at all?" Cushion seams screamed in pain and then abruptly ruptured.

"Remus Lupin, you_ git!_"

Feathers. They were everywhere, disgorging from the split orange cushion in a drifting maelstrom of down to cover the floor, the cushions and Tonks herself in a blanket of fluffy whiteness. Breathing deeply, she paused a moment, gazing down at the tatty remains of orange material gripped in her grasp, at the spiralling curls of down now coating her vision like feathered snow and sighed.

Well. That was better.

_Gods, I needed that. _

Too much emotion, far too soon. It had clouded her mind and her judgement.

But now things were clearer. And now she knew what she had to do.

She had to get him out.

She wasn't going to wait for the Order. She wasn't going to wait for Moody's backup or Dumbledore's call. She was going in alone and she would bring Remus out, alive and before the full moon, if she had to beat off every Death Eater and werewolf in the Institute to do it. And if they found a moment in which to thwart an evil Death Eater scheme, so much the better.

And so help Remus Lupin when she got her hands on him. _Prat!_

It was good to have things clear.

And she knew just the way to do it.

Felisha's portkey.

She had a vague, sleepy recollection of depositing on her bedside table at the Three Broomsticks early that morning. So that was where she needed to go.

But first…

One of the first lessons an Auror learned was that only an idiot went barrelling into a dangerous situation without at least leaving some evidence to show where they had gone. Speaking to someone, be it Order or Auror, was out of the question, if she didn't want to be restrained and held back until it was far too late to make a difference. But perhaps if she left a note…

Brushing feathers away from her hair and robes, Tonks pulled herself back to her feet and marched determinedly towards the door. She needed something to write with…

Something clinked against her foot. She looked down.

An inkpot rolled gently away from the impact with her shoe. Beside it, on the ground and looking for all the world as though they'd never dreamed of being anywhere else, was a quill and a piece of parchment.

_Where did that come from?_

Oh, well. No point in look a gift Hippogriff in the mouth…

It took only a few moments to dash off a quick message;

_To Professor Dumbledore,_

_I know you or Kingsley will probably have my guts for this, but I'm going after Remus alone. Yes, I know, reinforcements will be coming soon, but soon may be too late. I still have a working portkey at the Three Broomsticks and I know the territory – I can get in, get Remus and get out more quickly than anyone else. I'm sorry if you're angry, but this is something I have to do._

_Tonks._

There. She could seal it and leave it in the staff room on her way out. And then at least they couldn't say she didn't tell them…

Grasping the note in one hand, Tonks moved quickly back towards the door. With a surge, sound returned as she passed through the silencing barrier and out into the corridor.

And encountered a sound rather closer than she had expected.

"…no idea how to find the Institute but maybe the Room could give us a map or a diagram… _Look out_!"

Something solid and utterly invisible halted her path with a thump and a triple cry of "Omph!" For a moment, she teetered, grasping at unseen elbows and hidden limbs, material raking between her fingers; she caught a glimpse of three shocked heads, one tall and red, one bespectacled and black and one female and bushy brown appearing in mid-air, but then her lack of balance triumphed and sent her hurtling towards the wall. She staggered, grasping desperately at a nearby suit of armour but it took no great fondness from the impact; she saw the iron fist of the suit of armour swinging towards her a moment before it slammed against her head and sent the world swirling into darkness.

_Bugger._

The blackness faded. Tonks blinked slowly into consciousness.

And found herself facing an irritatingly familiar sight.

Poppy Pomfrey leaned over her, a bottle of potion gripped with one hand and a drawn wand waving slowly in the other. There were times in her life when Tonks had wondered if she was destined to be drawn eternally back by some mystic power to this room in which she had spent so many achy, post-accident hours in her youth. If she was, it was certainly evidence of a divine being with a very sick sense of humour.

"Now, Miss Tonks," the matron said, in that particular tone of resignation that she seemed to reserve only for her. "Lie still a moment. I've fixed the bump on your head but you were showing clear signs of stress and exhaustion so I dosed you with a little sleeping tonic. You should feel much better once you've woken up properly."

"Sleep? You made me sleep?" It was probably a good thing that Tonks' dozy mind took a few moments to grasp the reality of what she'd just been told, for those brief seconds of salvation allowed Madam Pomfrey to step away from the bed and avoid an undignified death by strangulation.

_Did she just say she made me sleep?_

"_How long?_" Her voice released the question almost unbidden. "How long have I been asleep?"

Madam Pomfrey glanced over her shoulder with a wan smile. "Only a couple of hours, dear. Not long."

"Remus? Have they got Remus back?"

The smile faded instantly. "No, they haven't. From what Minerva tells me, they're still waiting for Dumbledore to come out of the Wizengamot."

"Still?" Tonks shot bolt upright on the bed, discovering as she did so that she was still fully dressed and lying on top of the covers, not beneath them. "But Remus has been in the Institute for _hours_ now! Merlin knows what's been done to him!"

The Matron's expression was wretched. "I know, Miss Tonks. Minerva tried making an appeal for his release, but with the Ministry so busy with that Death Eater they captured, she was all but ignored. They need Dumbledore's weight to get any attention for it."

Tonks almost asked about rescue plans before remembering the school matron was hardly likely to be privy to them. A burning sense of urgency was usurping the chill cold of concern within her chest. "I have to go," she started, swinging her legs around as she braced herself to leap up from the bed. "I have to find…"

But the words dried away as Poppy Pomfrey's eyes narrowed in an ominously familiar fashion. "You're going nowhere," she retorted brusquely. "You've had a nasty bump and you need to rest. Now lie yourself back down and I'll fetch you a tonic…"

"But I don't _need_ a tonic!" Tonks almost wailed her protest, her voice rife with frustration. Her head was fine – in fact, it felt clearer and sharper than it had before her unfortunate headfirst encounter with the gauntleted fist of that temperamental suit of armour. She wanted to do something, to act, just as she'd intended and the bump was nothing – less than nothing. She'd done worse things to herself getting dressed, for crying out loud!

But in the world of the Hogwarts Matron, there was no person alive who did _not_ need a tonic. "Don't be ridiculous." Madam Pomfrey turned sharply on her heel once more as she moved briskly in the direction of her office. "Now lie yourself down and wait there. Minerva will be down with news as soon as she has any."

And with that, the Matron strode into her office and was gone.

A moment later, so was Tonks.

Her feet were touching the ground barely a second after Madam Pomfrey's retreat, her hand on the Hospital Wing door mere moments later. And then she was moving hurriedly down the corridor, leaving the world of rest and tonics well behind.

_I've already lost several hours. I have to hurry._

_I have to get Remus out of there. Before moonrise_. _Before it's too late_.

_For both of us_.

That was her intention. That was her goal.

Already, her brain was settling into reassuring professionalism. Her vent had done its job – her tumultuous emotions, satisfied temporarily by their romp through the feathers, were no longer impairing her thoughts. Mentally, she ticked off her needs as she strode down the corridors of Hogwarts towards the broom cupboard outside the staff room and the slimy secret passage that emerged in the Three Broomsticks well.

_Wand. _Check. It was still tucked safely into her belt – Madam Pomfrey had not thought to remove it.

_Hand Weapon in case of transformed werewolves_. Not in that moment, perhaps, but a brief detour and the borrowing of a short sabre from a rather more obliging suit of armour checked that box as well. Knowing herself and sharp objects rather too well, Tonks took a moment to shrink it before she folded it into her robes.

_Disguise_. Normally an automatic check, but with her hair suffering from a brown attack, there were no guarantees. Wearily, Tonks reminded herself to do a disillusionment spell just in case.

_Determination_. Big fat hairy check in that column.

_Way inside_. Soon to be check. The portkey was a mere secret passage away.

_Plan._

_Plan?_

That, Tonks had to admit, was a stalling point. It was difficult to make a decent plan when she had absolutely not idea what she was about to get herself into. But making things up as she went along had worked well enough in the past. She would just have to hope for the best.

_Luck._ Did she have luck?

_Merlin, I hope so_. _Because I'm going to need it_.

The staff room corridor opened out before her. Eyes filled with determination, Tonks made a beeline for the broom cupboard.

"_Achoo!_"

"_Ron!_"

It was a small sneeze, a murmured hiss, barely audible really but it was familiar enough to make Tonks spin on her heel and regard the empty corridor behind her with hands on hips and a steely gaze.

"Haven't you three spent enough time sneaking around under that thing today?" she remarked acidly, addressing the uncaring air with a stern expression. For an instant she wondered if they were going to be so foolish as to try and slink away – but a moment later the air rippled as Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley appeared from beneath their invisibility cloak wearing sheepish looks of apology.

Hermione was the first to venture forth into the turbulence of Tonks' mood. "Tonks, we're really sorry about what happened earlier," she said nervously, her eyes darting between the Auror's faces and a patch of floor not far from her toes. "We didn't even realise you were there until you were… well, _there_. And then it was too late to get out of the way…"

"We tried, though." Ron jumped bravely in after his friend. "But we were all so tangled up in the cloak and then there was that suit of armour…"

"We're _really_ sorry," Hermione repeated once more. Her eyes wandered upwards once more. "How's your head?" she inquired uncertainly.

"Fine." Tonks really wasn't in the mood for this – it was another delay, a few minutes more that kept her from reaching Remus and the Institute. "I'm fine, apology accepted. But maybe you'd like to explain why you're following me?"

When Harry stepped forward to take this query, Tonks experienced a sudden, powerful feeling of suspicion. _Oh no, surely they're not going to_…

"Because we want to help you."

_Oh, they are_. "Help me with what?"

"With this." Bullishly, Harry flourished a piece of paper, With a cold chill, Tonks realised that it was the note she had intended for Dumbledore.

Her expression darkened. "That note was private."

Hermione at least had the decency to flush. "You dropped it when you fell. Ron just picked it up, we didn't mean to read it…"

"But you did." Tonks was glaring now.

"We did." Harry had no compunction against glaring back. "So we know you're going after Professor Lupin. And we want to come too."

"No." That was simple enough. Aside from the fact that Dumbledore would have her guts for garters if she knowing took the Harry Potter and his two best friends into the heart of a dangerous building full of potential Death Eaters and werewolves beneath a full moon rising, she really could do without the hassle of having anything else to worry about.

Three mouths had already opened, a plethora of arguments hovering on their lips, but Tonks cut across each with brutal efficiency.

She pointed to Hermione. "Your parents would kill me."

She pointed to Ron. "You parents would definitely kill me."

She pointed to Harry. "And Dumbledore would kill me. Simple as that. So no. Back to your common room, all three of you. I don't have time for this."

Harry's green eyes hardened like twin emeralds but Tonks was painfully aware that she did not have the leisure to make this a debate. "_No,_ Harry," she repeated sternly, meeting those fierce eyes with a harsh stare of her own. "This isn't a game. I know what you're going to say – you can handle yourselves, you've taken on You-Know-Who himself and I respect that. And I know you want to help Remus – Merlin knows, _I _do too. But this is _not your fight_. Please. Just go."

Harry didn't move. But he didn't argue either.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a solemn glance. Both sighed.

Normally, Tonks would not have trusted to luck that this silence was an agreement. But she _had to go_.

And so, without another word, Tonks turned sharply and yanked open the broom closet door.

_I'm coming, Remus. I'm coming_…

**A/N**: Many thanks to my legion of reviewers this week: theeunknown-factor, purebristles, wizardelfgirl, Jump Highly, Oath of Feanor, Mee Yah, pstibbons, aurelie1, TheJazz, Love by the Moon, elka78, krumfan, xMissxUnderstoodx, Paloma, Author Gal, Camilinha, Tabari Avaren, phoenixtear19, Nienna Telrunya, wcoastgirl, emmaD, Godricgal, Silver Mo0n 19, Cassie, Pickledishkiller, morgan, blacklady, EllaJ.W, Ruby, Aroxs, KnighMara, SilkRoses, Firestar, Snowfall, Howling-wolf, Bardlover, Mandalen, sylthian, silvanelf, Lady Bracknell, kitkatgirl11, Analia's Broom, felixgirl, Rel Fexive, Libeku Taganashi, Crystal Glass, Kailin, le petit chou, Zevazo, NaginiFay, Gilpin, Stephthemagicdragon, SilverStar24, Lee Swain, Yoshi with a bazooka, InsaneMonkeePirate, Funky Platypus, Lucathia Rykatu, SilverHowler and sq1-lightning. :)

Responses to the previous chapter can be found in my LJ. Links on my profile. :)


	33. Cornered

**A/N:** If I start running now, maybe I can get a good head start...

_**33: Cornered**_

Inevitably, it was Arcadius Croll who broke the hollow silence that had followed Remus' grim announcement. And he sounded almost _cheerful_.

"So," he remarked in a tone that was almost shockingly offhand. "Do you want us to beat you to death or would you rather I strangled you?"

There was a moment of stunned silence. And then…

"Arcadius Croll, you have got to be, without a doubt the single _foulest_…"

"Croll, you _nasty little git_! If you don't…"

"We still have time, if we can find a way out of here we may not even need to…"

"A decent blow to the temple would probably down him in one…"

Felisha, Avin, Rebekah and Unwin all erupted in one spectacular cacophony of conflicting voices, accompanied by a hiss of shocked whispering from those around them. Avin had taken two steps forward before Remus had even managed to take in the chaos, seizing Croll by the front of his robes with an expression that did not imply much prospect of a polite exchange of reasoned views.

Croll's hands shot up in protest. "Excuse me, but he asked for a volunteer! I'm doing him a _favour_!"

"But there are other ways!" Felisha had thrust herself abruptly to her boyfriend's side. "Surely we could just knock him out…"

Despite being hoisted by his robe, Croll still managed to sneer. "Oh yes, a _wonderful_ idea. And when he comes round after transforming into a savage, slavering beast, would you like to be the volunteer who bashes him on the head again?"

Zelia Phelan swept into the fray with a clink of beads and bangles. "Couldn't we just tie him up?"

"With what?" Unwin Dempster waded in with a gruff snort. "Your jewellery? Our robes? Why don't we all run around stark bollock naked while he rips our clothes and then us to shreds?"

"So you'd rather one of us became a murderer?" Alexander Aylward stated grimly. "That we kill him in cold blood?"

Croll glared at the tall security chief. "I'd rather be the murderer than the _victim_. And besides, he's only a _werewolf_…"

SMACK.

Croll hit the floor with a crunch, the front of his robes ripped away to leave only torn remnants in Avin's firm grip. Slowly, a stark red globule of blood dripped from his large nose onto the ground.

Felisha was nursing the knuckles of her left hand, damaged with the force of its impact with Croll's face, but her eyes were utterly furious.

"_How dare you?_" she hissed. "How _dare_ you even _think_ that? Remus Lupin is ten times the man you'll ever be, you prejudiced, appalling…"

"Oh yes, my _terrible prejudice_." Croll cut into her sentence harshly as he wiped one hand across his large nose, smearing blood over his fingers. The stench of it lent a vicious tang to the stuffy air. "I do apologise for being so mean to the poor, sainted werewolf who's about to _slaughter us all_!"

And that was the end of any hint of reason.

Felisha exploded into furious bellows and Croll returned in kind, stumbling to his feet with burning eyes and lashing retorts. No blows were exchanged but it was clear that several of the participants were tempted as the shouting began to spread, Avin pitching in his support for Felisha, Unwin wading in for Croll and then one after the other, the rest of the Institute staff began to bawl their views, some for one side, some for another, other poor souls like Aylward merely trying to restore the peace. But it was far too late for that. Hurled insults and vocal fury rolled in slashing waves across the stone walled rooms, drowning out the moderate, silencing the sane. The echoes multiplied their voices a thousand fold.

It was deafening. It was unbearable.

Standing just to one side and quite forgotten, it was all Remus could do not to clamp his hands across his ears and scream out in fury for silence. But one more shout would not be heard in such a turbulent chaos of sound; it would be no more than a whisper to be drowned in the storm tossed swell of battle. All were shouting but no one was listening or hearing a word.

And it was too much for Remus to handle.

One step, two steps back took him out of the edge of the fray. Silent, unnoticed, unseen, he turned quietly and walked with the slow, measured stride of the condemned until he reached one relatively quiet and blessedly empty corner of their mutual cell. And then, laying his back gently against the wall, he slid to the floor and dropped his face into his hands.

_They aren't going to do it. They're going to argue until it's too late._

_I wonder how easy it would be to strangle myself_.

Felisha and Avin's defence of him was gratifying, of course. But for once, he did not want their protection, verbal or physical; he wanted their support. Time was slipping away – he could feel the pull of the moon less than an hour from rising. Arguing about the matter was counterproductive – Remus had always known that if his situation had ever come down to a choice of slaughtering others whilst transformed or dying himself, he would take death in an instant. The thought of living with even the vaguest memories of killing or biting in his lupine form, the knowledge that he was responsible for taking another's life in such a brutal fashion…

He would rather be dead. He had always known that.

And with his death, his knowledge of the Order would finally be safe from enemy hands. That at least would make it worthwhile. And his life was a small exchange for more than twenty others.

Whether they would survive the night even with him gone was a whole other question. But it was also irrelevant.

He was not going to play Dolph's sick game. He would not make _sport_ of the slaughter of others. At least without him they stood a chance.

The roar of argument intensified. Remus sighed deeply.

Or at least they stood a chance if someone would only bloody_ take it_.

"Remus."

The soft touch against his arm was almost startling – raising his face from the cradle of his hands, Remus stared up into the solemn eyes of Rebekah Goldstein. With a wan smile, his cousin slid down against the wall to settle at his side, her eyes flicking towards the war in the centre of the chamber with weary resignation.

"I think we both know how pointless that is," she said quietly, her voice nonetheless crystal sharp against the blare of sound beyond. "Arguing isn't going to change the facts."

Remus managed a smile of his own. "Spoken like a true researcher," he replied with equally soft clarity. He jerked his head in the direction of Felisha and Avin who were engaged in gesticulating and shaking their fingers busily in Croll's face. "They mean well. And their affection is gratifying. It's just hideously mistimed."

Rebekah bit her lip. "We might still have time to escape, you know. Your death might not be necessary."

Remus slowly shook his head. "Look around you," he stated with weary reason. "There are no doors, no windows here. We have nothing to use to break through the walls and the only exit is blocked with bars that it would have been foolish not to curse. Unless we get help, we're not going anywhere. And in a building full of Death Eaters, do you really think help can get here in time?"

Rebekah sighed deeply. "We'll probably die anyway. Or perhaps we will be bitten and Kissed by their Dementors in order to join their little army. Your sacrifice could mean nothing."

Remus met her gaze deliberately. "It would mean something to me."

There was a long silence. Their eyes remained locked.

Wordlessly, he asked her, asked her to help him, asked her to do what no one else in the room seemed able to manage, whether willing to or not. And in her silence, he found the answer he sought.

His cousin's expression was one of saddened pain as the weight of the task she was facing settled across her shoulders. Her smile was sorrowful.

"Do you know how many years I spent fantasising that you were dead and my mother still alive?" she whispered, her voice shivering slightly with depths of emotion rarely touched. "Do you know how often I wished you as dead as my brother? And now here I am looking your death in the eye and all I want to do is run."

Remus smiled with equal melancholy. "You know it's for the best. My death will save the lives of more than just those in this room. I wouldn't ask this of you otherwise."

"I know." Rebekah closed her eyes for a moment. "I doubt my family will ever forgive me. I doubt I'll ever forgive myself."

Slowly, softly, Remus reached out and laid his hand gently over hers.

"There's nothing to forgive," he murmured. "And even if your mind insists there is, just remember – _I_ forgave you."

Rebekah's eyes lifted to his once more. She smiled a final time, the corner of his lip twitching with grim humour. "You know I've never strangled anyone before," she offered almost desperately.

Remus smiled too, a smile of sorrow, of reassurance, of resignation. "I know," he replied with the same edge of sad levity. "But there's a first time for everything."

There was no sound now. The roar of the argument that raged on just a few yards away had faded to a dull buzz as Remus closed his eyes for what he now knew would be the last time in his life. He could feel nothing but the soft touch of Rebekah's fingers as they closed around his throat, her fingertips a cool stroke against his skin, and he wished for an instant for another touch, another face to share this last and crucial moment.

But she was not here. She would never be here. For he knew that it would be over all too soon and she was far away.

Rebekah's slow, tremulous breaths echoed against his ears.

"I'm sorry," he heard her whisper. "I wish I could have known you better."

And then, she began to squeeze.

------------------------------------------------------------

_Gotcha_.

With a smile of grim pleasure, Nymphadora Tonks lifted the glass globe portkey from the bedside table of her room at the Three Broomsticks and hefted it gently in her palm. It seemed like forever and a day since she and Remus had stood with Felisha in the yard just below, tapping the portkey, _one, two, three_, and materialising moments later in the Feral Institute. It was hard to believe that such an eternity had passed in less than a single day.

And now she was going back. She was going to find him. She was going to get him out.

No matter what the cost.

She had made good time under the circumstances. Her progress down the slimy passage from Hogwarts to the Three Broomsticks well had been rapid if a little unsteady. The moment she had reached the shaft leading up to fading daylight above, she had closed her eyes and apparated – a moment later, shaking away the squeezing sensation that had engulfed her body, she had gazed around at the upstairs landing of the Three Broomsticks, briefly cursing the protective wards and spells she had herself placed around her room that prevented a direct transport. And then she darted for her room.

It had taken only an instant to get inside. The door had swung oddly in her wake, slamming back open moments after she had harshly pushed it back but ricochet was nothing unusual – a quick wave of her wand saw it closed and locked for good. Her breathing seemed harsh in her ears, rapid and almost multiplied as she hurried passed the messy four-poster bed she had dragged herself out of that morning and snatched her prize into her grasp.

_Time to go_.

She hesitated, allowing herself a final moment to run through her checklist, but she found and placed a mental tick against everything tangible she needed. Her heart was pounding, driven by a cocktail of fear, adrenalin, anticipation and determination but fuelled by something more.

_I'm not going to lose you like this, Remus Lupin. I'm bloody not._

_I don't care if you love me or not. Just don't die._

Slowly she lifted the portkey in one hand. In her other she raised her wand.

_Ready, steady…_

_Wait._

It was a shiver, the barest touch of instinct, but it was enough. Tonks had been an Auror more than long enough to learn how to know when she was being _watched_.

_This doesn't feel right_.

For an instant, she hesitated. Her eyes darted rapidly around the room, drinking in the unmade bed, the scatter of abandoned clothes, her broomstick propped in one corner. Everything was normal. Everything was as she left it.

But it felt odd. It felt wrong.

She didn't feel alone.

_Who's there?_ She almost spoke the words aloud before remembering that she was hardly likely to get a decent answer.

And she was wasting time. Watched or not, _she had to go_.

Forcing her uncertainty aside, Tonks drew in one final breath. And then, she tapped the portkey with her wand.

"One, two, thr…_oomph_!"

For the second time that day, something solid and invisible barrelled into her. She felt the clutch of unseen hands as they clamped down over hers, covering the portkey in the same instant as her wand fell a final time. She could feel herself toppling from the force of the impact, could hear breathing from mouths her eyes could not find and then, as though a hook had yanked around her navel, she and her invisible leech were dragged away into nowhere.

Portkeys were disorientating at the best of times. But after this, Tonks' balance stood no chance.

She caught a brief glimpse of shadows, of a dark and unlit room and then her foot slammed down on a too familiar rug and skidded almost frantically away from her.

And she was not the only one.

Hands appeared, flailing out of nowhere as material brushed against her skin; she heard three very different gasps of shock as she tumbled. She saw the outline of the desk jerk, heard quills and papers scattering and a thud against the wall, saw hints and edges of figures staggered out of nowhere. But before she had time to process any further glimpses, she struck the floor with bruising force.

And then there was a crash. The crash of shattering glass.

Pain, sharp and bright, pierced through her hand. Warm, sickly wetness seeped across her palm.

"_Lumos!_"

Unexpected light flooded the room. The now familiar contours of Felisha's office were thrown into relief.

Along with several other things.

Hermione Granger stood, pale and gasping, against the wall, her wand raised to provide the precious light that now surrounded them. Against the desk slumped the top half of Ron Weasley, his red hair ruffled as he fought to catch his breath, his body invisible from the torso down. And at his feet, emerging from beneath his cloak, half tangled in the same rug that had toppled her, Harry Potter sat slumped against the floor with his glasses askew. His emerald eyes met her with a mixture of defiance and apology.

"We want to help," he said shakily. "I told you that."

Tonks almost screamed with fury. Her hand throbbed painfully.

She did not want to look at it. She did not want the confirmation of what her sinking heart already knew.

But inevitably, inexorably, her head turned anyway.

The globe portkey was gone. In its place, broken shards of glass littered the floor and the palm of her hand. Blood was seeping slowly from a series of sharp cuts to stain the glass to scarlet.

She looked up, her eyes cold. "Do you know what you've done?" she whispered icily. "_Do you?_"

Ron gazed at her in blank confusion for a moment before slow realisation dawned. Hermione's eyes were already welling with horror. Harry's had filled with guilt.

They knew.

And so did she.

Intentionally or not, Tonks knew she had just brought three teenage Hogwarts students into the midst of what was probably the most dangerous building in the country that night. And their means of escape lay shattered in her palm.

The danger had been inevitable. But at least she had known she had a means of escape.

But no more.

They were trapped.

**A/N**: I have nothing to say but RUN AWAY RUN AWAY RUN AWAY! -dives for the safety of her bunker- ;)

Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: elka78, felixgirl, Paloma, Bardlover, pstibbons, Rel Fexive, Howling-Wolf, Nymphad0ra T0nks, Snowfall, Camilinha, Jump Highly, Ruby, NaturallyInsane, krumfan, phoenixtear19, LupinLover99, Pickledishkiller, Kailin, morgan, Analia's Broom, sylthian, kitkatgirl11, aurelie1, Zevazo, TheJazz, Libeku Taganashi, Gilpin and le petit chou! Bless you all. :)

Responses can be found on my LJ as usual. The links are on my profile. :)

Now don't hurt me. Please?


	34. Where Angels Fear To Tread

_**34: Where Angels Fear To Tread**_

Needless to say, Nymphadora Tonks was not in the best of moods.

_What a fantastic situation this is_, she thought grimly, her eyes flicking from Harry, to Ron, to Hermione as she fought to suppress the vast well of rage and fear that was bubbling up inside of her. _What a magnificent rescue this is going to be. Here I am, on a full moon, in probably the most dangerous building in the country tonight, with three school children, a broken portkey, no idea where to start looking for Remus and no way to get him out if I find him. Magnificent, wonderful, bloody marvellous…_

Her hand was throbbing madly. It really didn't help.

"Oh!" Hermione's gasp drew her instant attention. "Your hand! Oh, Tonks!"

There was, admittedly a great deal of blood, but that was something that Tonks had grown used to over the years. Her expression still dark and laced with menace, the Auror pulled herself up to sitting and examined the damage with a wince.

"Nothing life threatening," she muttered darkly, her tone a reflection of her menacing mood. A few waves of her wand and a couple of the emergency healing spells all Aurors were compelled to learn erased the worst of the cuts, extracting glass fragments and closing the wounds down into ugly red scars. By the time she was done, Harry, Ron and Hermione had all found their feet, standing in a huddle with expressions that ranged from the truculent to the guilt-riddled.

"Tonks." It was Hermione once more who spoke first, watching nervously as the Auror pulled herself unsteadily back to her feet in front of them. "Tonks, we're really sorry for…"

"For knocking me over again?" Tonks intervention was acidic, her tone hushed but rife with heavily suppressed force. "For slowing me down in my attempt to rescue Remus? For knocking me unconscious and then destroying my best means to get him and us safely back out? Sorry for being so _bloody stupid_?"

There was a triple wince at that remark. Harry half opened his mouth, apparently intending to defend himself but the look on the Auror's face was empahtically enough to convince him that that would be a really bad idea.

Beneath her veneer of seething rage, Tonks battled to bring herself back under control. She knew that bawling the three of them out over the stupidity of their actions was pointless in the middle of such a serious situation but holding back the urge was like trying plug a leaking dam with spellotape.

_We're all here for Remus. Not to scream at each other. And like it or not, they're here and I'm stuck with them._

She took several deep breaths. "You really do have no idea how much I want to yell at you three just now," she declared sternly. "And if it wasn't for the fact that this really isn't the time, I swear I'd put one of Mad-Eye's scoldings to shame. But _if _we get out of this alive, I'm telling Molly Weasley _everything_ and then you'll bloody well wish I _hadn't_ restrained myself."

Ron's expression of outright terror strongly implied that the message had sunk home loud and clear. Resting her hands wearily against her hips, Tonks sighed.

"But you're here now and none of us are going anywhere so I guess I'm stuck with you whether I want it or not. So I guess we'd better…"

Her voice trailed away. She froze.

Footsteps. Outside the door. Low guttural laughter.

Tonks reacted instantly. "Quiet! Light out!" she breathed sharply, grabbing all three teenagers as she yanked them over to a less conspicuous corner.

"_Nox_!" Hermione's hiss instantly extinguished her wand tip light. The room was plunged into darkness.

And in silence and shadow, they listened.

"I can't wait until moonrise." The voice was male, harsh and hard-edged, muffled by the door but still clearly distinct against the backdrop of slow, measured steps down the corridor. "How long do you reckon it'll take Lupin to finish them all off once he's changed?"

Tonks felt her stomach plummet. At her side, she heard Hermione swallowed a gasp of shock. Against her side, she felt Harry's fists clench fiercely.

"Dunno." His companion's voice was lighter in tone but with a nasty flavour to it. "But it's bound to be messy. No doors, no windows, just flat walls and a grate over the chute, nowhere to climb, nowhere to hide and no way to defend themselves. He'll pick 'em off at his leisure."

There was a cold chuckle. "How long before it starts?"

A snort was his response, fading slightly as the two unseen patrollers moved away down the corridor once more. "It's got to be less than an hour until moonrise. It'd better be good though. I need something to get me through a whole damned night of sitting with Dementors and waiting for a pack of bloody werewolves to change back."

"Seconded. I can think of better ways to spend a night…"

The voices faded into the distance. The footsteps vanished.

"_Lumos_."

Light returned. Tonks looked at Harry. Hermione looked at them both.

But it was Ron who spoke, stepping forward as he glanced between his friends with an expression that mixed concern, fear and determination.

"Anyone else think we'd better get a move on?" he said.

Hermione's features were pale against the washed out light. "A move on to where?" she retorted.

But Tonks already knew.

No doors, no windows. And accessed by a sealed chute.

_The laundry chute. The wand-sealed one on the stairs. It has to be._

The grate those Death Eaters had mentioned would probably be hexed through to the core. But she knew just the spell for that…

"I know where we're going." To Tonks' own surprise, as well as the mind alarm of her three companions, a hint of grim pleasure touched her face. "And I've a good idea of what we'll have to do when we get there. So follow me."

It didn't hurt as much as Remus had expected. He'd always expected dying to be painful.

He could feel the probably too familiar relief as darkness pressed against him, so close, so strong, so welcoming, bringing the approaching blessing of release as the squeeze around his throat tightened almost tentatively, closing his breath away. He could feel his lungs contracting in desperate search of absent oxygen, feel the choking pressure on his windpipe as it tightened and pressed shut under the weight of outside assault. The fingers that applied it seemed oddly remote, distant, their touch tempered by the mass of scar tissue that Kane's claws had left in their wake, another close brush with death. But this time would be the last. It had to be.

Sensation began to fade. Dizzyness began to rise.

The darkness was close. So very close…

"_Rebekah!_ What are you _doing_?"

The fingers that pressed against Remus' throat gave an almost guilty jerk as Felisha's voice cut harshly through the blessed onset of approaching darkness. Rapid footsteps closed upon them and then abruptly the pressure was gone, saving hands dragged away and he was gasping instinctively for breath, cursing in the silence of his mind the day that Felisha Hathaway had ever decided she liked him.

His eyes fluttered open. Felisha's concerned face filled his gaze.

"Remus!" she exclaimed almost frantically, soft hands supporting his shoulders with gentle care. "Remus, are you all right?"

He wanted to scream _no_, to reach out and retrieve the black silence he had brushed against, a silence that promised he would never hear voices screech out in agonised pain as he tore them limb from limb. But it had faded. It had gone.

And he was an imminent killer once more.

His eyes met Felisha's. They burned like fire.

"Why did you do that?" he rasped hoarsely.

Felisha blinked. "Pardon?"

"_Why _did you _do _that?" His voice, though still shuddering, raged with the voice of a sudden hurricane. "Why did you _stop her_?"

His friend stared at him in outright amazement, her eyes brimming with astonished hurt. "Remus, she was _strangling _you…"

Remus almost screamed in frustration – he could feel the wolf tearing at the edges of his consciousness, straining to be free. "Because I _asked her to_!" he almost bellowed. "Weren't you _listening _earlier? If someone doesn't kill me, I'm going to kill or bite _all of you_!"

Felisha's lip was trembling as she rose uncertainly back to standing. "_I know_," shemanaged, the distress evident in her voice. "But Remus - _not yet._" She shook her head softly. "There's still time, we still have time, there has to be another way…"

"Well then, _when_?" Closing his eyes, Remus slumped back against the wall, losing himself for a moment in the dull throb of pain that circled his throat. "When, Felisha?"

"If we just wait, we may find a way out…"

"No, we _won't_!" Irrational rage blossomed again as Remus' eyes snapped open to face Felisha and the sea of curious faces now gathered behind her. "Don't you _understand_? There's no point in putting this off, Leish!" His voice rose, pitched keenly with frustration as he staggered furiously to his feet to face them all. "I'm sorry, but we have to face the facts! We are _not _going to get out of here _before the full moon comes_!"

BANG!

It was as though someone had let off a firework mere yards from where they stood, a hollow boom that shook the walls as echoes multiplied it. Every eye snapped up, wide and staring in disbelief as the grate that sealed over the entrance to the laundry chute burst into searing flame, flickers of vivid white light that raced along the bars, scorching them, scouring them, warping them out of shape. The metal groaned in pain as it bent and twisted and then suddenly it dropped, tumbling to the floor with an echoing clang to lie, misshapen and blackened in a smoking tangle of bars.

There was a very long silence. The damaged grate was, needless to say, the very centre of everyone's attention.

Until they heard the voice.

"_Sod_ it! Will you hold it steady, I can't…Oh no, oh no, no, _no, no…_!"

From the chute overhead came a gasp and a decidedly painful sounding thud, followed by another and another and another….

"_Sod_!"

And then, with that simple exclamation, a flurry of robes and limbs came hurtling out of the now open chute to slam with an agonising thud into the floor. There was a profound groan, followed up in quick succession by an acidic string of curses.

A _familiar_ groan. And _very_ familiar curses.

Remus felt himself moving forward almost instinctively.

_No. No, she couldn't have, she wouldn't have_…

And then, a heart-shaped face appeared beneath surprisingly subdued brown hair, dark eyes gleaming as she met his astonished stare with a mixture of irritation and deepest, unspoken relief and he knew without doubt that she _had_.

"Bloody hell, Lupin," she drawled dryly. "The things I do for you!"

From some unknown corner of his scrambled brain, Remus found the power to speak. "_Tonks?_"

Her lips quirked with something that almost resembled satisfaction. "Well, who were you expecting?" she declared with a half shrug as she pushed herself shakily back to her knees and staggered unsteadily upright. "Dolores Umbridge, maybe? The Lady Nimue, decked out in nothing but ivy leaves and a pretty smile? Salazar Slytherin in a corset and high heels?"

The shock that had frozen his brain into a solid, useless lump was beginning to thaw slightly as the true weight of what he was seeing sank in. Tonks was here. Tonks was standing in front of him. Tonks was grinning at him.

Tonks was in the Institute. Tonks was in this cell. And the full moon was still approaching rapidly.

Given the tension wracking his body from the impending change, and his frustration at their situation, there really only was one way he could respond.

"Nymphadora Tonks, what the _bloody hell_ are you _doing here_? Are you _insane_?"

Tonks' features hardened as she held his gaze glare for glare. "Oh, Tonks!" she exclaimed with sudden melodrama. "You have no idea how good it is to see you! Thank you so much for risking your life to save mine! How can I ever repay you?"

"This is not the time for stupid jokes!"

"I wasn't bloody joking!" Tonks' expression matched Remus' crease by crease for anger. "I come all this way to save you, Lupin, and what's the first I get for my trouble? A damned _scolding_! No _thank you_, no _good to see you_, just a telling off! I am not one of your students to be put in detention, _Professor_!"

"They maybe you shouldn't behave like one!" Remus snapped back instantly, fists clenched at his sides as a thousand scenarios jabbed at his mind, Tonks hurt, Tonks killed, Tonks' screaming as his lupine teeth ripped into her body… "Do you have any idea of the danger you've put yourself in? I'm not worth this! You could have just stayed safe and…"

"_I'm an Auror_!" Tonks' harsh retort snapped the rest of his sentence away. "I don't do _safe_!"

"Well maybe you should _try it_!"

"Well maybe _you_ should…"

"_Excuse_ me." The oily intrusion of Croll's voice struck Remus like a jolt – in the single minded focus of his shocked rage at Tonks, he had completely forgotten that there was anyone else in the room. Blinking, he tore his eyes away from the equally startled Auror to find twenty or more faces staring at them both with a mixture of bemusement, confusion and incredulity; Felisha with eyebrow raised, Avin's lips pursed, Rebekah staring, Unwin sneering. Sudden embarrassment quelled the fire of his rage like a bucket of icy water.

Croll smirked with acidic disdain. "Pardon my interrupting this _fascinating _little tiff," he drawled sardonically. "But would one of you be so good as to explain to the rest of us insignificant specks exactly what is going on here?"

Her shoulders were heaving with the remnants of her rage but nonetheless Tonks managed to bring herself rapidly back under control.

"I would have thought that was obvious," she retorted tartly. "I'm his rescue party. And by default, that means I'm yours too."

Croll's sneer was outright impressive as his eyes raked the small, dishevelled young woman before him. "_You_?"

Remus felt a flare of defensive indignation. "She's an _Auror_, Croll. She can handle herself."

Croll snorted. "And your word means _so_ much," he smirked. "Given your loudly declared lack of faith in her abilities."

Remus flushed furiously as Tonks graced Croll with one of her finest frowns. "You don't want me to help you escape?" she said with a shrug, her tone blandly matter-of-fact. "Fine. You can stay here. I'll just take everyone else. I'm sure the ruthless Death Eaters that are controlling this building won't torture you _too _much to find out where we've gone. They'll probably just kill you quickly." She paused thoughtfully. "Or maybe the lovely Dolph will wait until full moon and chew on your limbs for a bit…"

It took a moment for the significance of this statement to sink in. "You know about Dolph?"

Tonks smiled grimly. "Adolphus Mingan-Moritz, to give him his full name. He's a Death Eater, an expert with Dementors; I found his file this morning at work. I was on my way to warn you about him when I found out you were already _here_." She glanced to where the pale Rebekah was staring at her. "I hadn't quite got the Polyjuice business worked out though..."

Remus did not even bother to say it. He just gestured at the haggard and shaking form of the real Cymone.

Tonks' expression dropped instantly. "Oh. _Bugger_."

"Quite." Common sense was slowly sneaking its way back into Remus' psyche. "We have get everyone out of here. It's not long until the moon."

Tonks frowned. "Wouldn't it be easier to get you out first?"

Remus raised a weary eyebrow. "To where?" At Tonks' expression, he sighed. "We can use that as a last resort if we have to but if it comes to it I'd rather be restricted in here away from everyone else than up there loose and roaming the corridors. And we have to hurry." He fought back a mild surge of guilt. "I've wasted quite enough time making a fuss."

"You said it, not me." Tonks comment was offhand, but distinctly pointed as her eyes assessed the room, her lower lip caught thoughtfully between her teeth. "I guess we have two options here. Either we levitate everyone in this room up the chute one by one or we just go for broke and break through the wall."

Remus stepped over to join her, using the sudden surge of hope that had swelled within him to suppress the raging turmoil of his uncertain emotions. "Levitating one by one would take a long time. But blasting through the wall is going to draw a lot of attention very quickly and that really isn't a good idea."

Drawing her wand, Tonks twirled it absently between her fingertips. "We needn't necessarily blast through. Cutting a careful door shouldn't draw too much attention."

Remus glanced at her. "It'll take much longer though. We only have one wand and not that much time."

He saw the twist of her lip, the irritable and vaguely resigned set of her expression and knew immediately that there was something he hadn't been told.

"Tonks…" he said deliberately, phrasing an entire unspoken question into that single word.

She pulled a reluctant face. "We have more wands. I didn't come alone."

Remus blinked. "But that's _good_," he ventured uncertainly. "_Isn't_ it? Is it someone from the Order? Kingsley or Moody?"

Her expression was answer enough. "Not from the Order, no."

A slow, creeping suspicion that he was not going to welcome the truth was seeping through Remus' veins. "You didn't bring Snape, did you?"

Much to his relief, Tonks snorted emphatically. "Sod that! What do you think I am? And anyway, Snape's in the Order…" She pulled a face. "Well, _sort of_…"

He wasn't going to like it. That much was definite and indisputable. But quite _how_ he wasn't going to like it was proving a bit of a mystery.

The question, therefore, simply had to be asked. "Then…who did you bring?"

Tonks sighed as she awkwardly examined her shoes. "Technically, I didn't bring _anyone_. They kind of brought themselves…"

_Oh please, no_…

His head began to shake almost of its own accord. "Not _them_. Please tell me you didn't bring…"

POP!

Like a burrowing worm, a little cylindrical length of masonry shot out of the wall to their right, curling as it crumbled to the floor. Even as Remus stared, his heart sinking even further, there came a voice that deepened the dread into his stomach.

"Tonks? Tonks, are you there? Hermione, are you sure this is the right room?"

"Of course I'm sure! Do you think I'd be so stupid as to drill a hole in the wall if I _wasn't_?"

_Harry._ And if Hermione was with him, there was no way that Ron would have stayed behind….

Remus could feel the temporary calm he had so carefully nurtured splitting and tearing down the seams. His voice, when it came, was dangerously low and rife with unpleasant implications.

"You brought the _kids_?" he stated softly. "You brought the kids _here_? _Now_?"

"Hey!" Ron's vaguely indignant response from beyond the wall cut off whatever weary remark had hovered on Tonks' lips. "I happen to be of age, you know!"

"And anyway, don't blame Tonks." Harry's voice interrupted Ron's protests firmly.

"She told us not to come. It's not her fault we snuck after her and latched on to her portkey..."

"_Portkey?_" Rebekah's voice cut sharply into the conversation, startling Remus yet again as she rushed forwards to his side and grabbed Tonks sharply by the wrist. "You have a portkey?"

Tonks was regarding Rebekah with vast uncertainty and Remus was reasonably sure as to why – months of suspicion was not erased instantaneously. Her eyes darted towards Remus, searching his face almost instinctively for reassurance.

"She was under the Imperius curse." Remus acted quickly to provide it. "We can trust her now."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Sweet Merlin, this business has more twists and turns than a snitch with a broken wing. Even _I'm_ having trouble keeping track of it."

Rebekah was staring at the Auror with barely concealed impatience. "You have a portkey?" she prompted sharply. "A portkey that _works_?"

Tonks grimaced. "_Had_. It got broken." She shot a steely glare at the wall, presumably directed at Harry, Ron and Hermione beyond. "It was one of your globes that I… got hold of." Remus observed her very deliberate avoidance of Felisha's guilty eyes as she spoke. "But a certain three somebodies not a million miles from here grabbed me as I activated it. I lost my balance on landing and it fell and smashed. I'm sorry."

Rebekah's expression had fallen instantly at the word _broken_. "That's why we used glass," she remarked softly, almost to herself. "So that they could be smashed as a last resort to prevent residents escaping. I didn't expect it to come back to haunt me like this."

"And speaking of haunting…" Tonks was glaring once more at the hole that led to the three teenagers. "Didn't I tell you three to wait up on the stairs?"

Hermione's voice was distinctly apologetic. "Tonks, there were Death Eaters coming up towards us and that stairwell was so narrow that there wasn't room for us to get out of their way under the cloak. We didn't have anywhere else to go but downstairs. And then I managed to work out where this room would have to be..."

Tonks rolled her eyes but did not expand upon her irritation. "Well, now you're down here, you can make yourself useful. We need to cut a door in that wall – as quickly and quietly as we can."

Hermione's tone filled with instant pleasure. "Oh! I know the perfect spell for that! I can show you…"

"And I know the perfect place." Tall and grim, Alexander Aylward inserted himself into the conversation. "I'll show you where the original door was before I sealed it over…"

"Aren't we all _forgetting _something?" An almost audible groan rippled across the room as Croll's caustic tone intervened brutally into the plan making. "It's got to be less than an hour until the full moon rises. How do you propose that we get more than twenty people out of a front door that is most likely heavily guarded before the Lockdown activates?"

There was a deafening silence. But the looks of dawning horror on the faces of the Institute staff were not promising.

"Lockdown?" Tonks marched forward instantly, addressing her question to the room at large. "What's the Lockdown?"

"A security precaution." The weary voice that answered was Rebekah's. "Every full moon, the entire building is sealed automatically against potential escape. Every external door is locked and heavily warded. Every internal door closes and can only be opened by a member of the Institute staff. It can't be deactivated or delayed or stopped without authorisation codes that are held in secret at the Ministry – I don't even know them. Once the Lockdown is in place, the only way out before moonset the next morning out is by portkey." She sighed heavily. "And as I'm sure you're aware, we have no portkeys left."

Tonks' face had paled considerably as Rebekah's words sunk in. "Oh fantastic," she drawled with resignation. "So we're _really_ on the clock. Remus, can you tell how long we have until moonrise?"

Remus took a moment to carefully examine the state of his body and mind. "I'm a little tense, so it's hard to be precise," he informed her with appallingly gross understatement. "I'd say maybe half an hour but I can't be any more accurate than that. I'm sorry."

Tonks was glaring at the floor. "Our chances of fighting our way out in that time with only four wands are slim to none," she remarked grimly, almost to herself. Her eyes snapped up. "Isn't there _any_ other way out of this place?"

"There's the emergency tunnel." Aylward's deep voice echoed suddenly against the stone walls. "That's not far from here."

Tonks pounced upon his words instantly. "What emergency tunnel?"

The Institute staff were looking equally bemused. "Good question," the old caretaker Unwin rumbled gruffly. "_What_ emergency tunnel?"

But Rebekah was already shaking her head. "That's going to lock down just like everything else, Alexander. And you know I don't have my wand anymore."

But Tonks was clearly not interested in excuses. "What tunnel?" she repeated sharply.

Rebekah sighed once more. "It's a secret exit for mass evacuation purposes – a way to empty the building quickly of everyone, residents included, in case of a Level Six escape. Only Alexander and I are supposed to know about it. Dolph doesn't know it exists – he never asked and so I never told him."

Remus rapidly joined the interrogation. "Where does it go?"

"To the other side of the Muggle railway line – outside the anti-apparition zone."

"But that sounds perfect!" Tonks exclaimed with near enthusiasm. "Why didn't you mention this earlier?"

"Because it's _useless _to us." Rebekah's frown was deep. "It's wand sealed at both ends to my wand." She hardened her jaw. "And the last time I saw my wand, it was in my office. With Dolph."

Remus felt a chill settle across his heart. He glanced around, drinking in a sea of falling faces, hope draining from their eyes, shoulders slumping as their last slender chance of escape was ruthlessly yanked away. He already knew, with a sinking heart, that this final spark of hope was not his to claim. But for them?

"Then we get your wand." The words had passed his lips almost before he was aware that he had spoken. "We go up there, just a few of us, and we get it. Before moonrise."

Tonks' lip twisted. "Remus…"

His pointed gaze cut her off. "You have a better idea?"

An eyebrow quirked. "Nope. So I guess I'm with you."

"What about the residents?" Felisha's voice, quiet but firm, penetrated the air. "We're just going to leave them here to be Kissed?"

It was Rebekah who responded first, cutting off Croll's half started sneer of disdain. "It's too late to save them now," she replied in a voice ripe with genuine sorrow. "You must be able to see that, Felisha. The best thing we can do is raise the alarm and have an army of Aurors waiting outside when the Lockdown releases. I know Dolph is planning to have them Kissed first thing after moonset – they'll be at their weakest then." She shook her head slowly, tiredly. "There's nothing more we can do for them from here. Our escape is their only hope."

"She's right." Remus stared around at the mass of pale faces, feeling suddenly and unaccountably weary. "It'll be hard enough getting all of you down that tunnel without…"

He had hoped to slip the word in unnoticed, unquestioned, but Nymphadora Tonks was not a woman that he could easily fool. He saw the instant narrowing of her eyes, the cooling of her features and braced himself for the barrage.

"What do you mean, all of _you_? Don't you mean all of _us_?"

Remus stared at her. Stared into her dark eyes, at the cocktail of fear, determination and anger that burned within them. She had come here for him, broken into the Institute, braved danger and Death Eaters to bring him out safely and now he had to tell her that the force behind her mission – her desire to see him safe – was destined to come to nothing.

Because by the time she had come, it had already been too late.

He met her eyes. "I'm not coming with you."

Her expression flared. "Remus Lupin, if you're about to spout some ridiculous excuse to exercise that stupid martyr complex of yours, then I _swear_…"

"It's _too long_." Remus cut her sentence away sharply before she was able to build up an unstoppable momentum. "The tunnel," he added more softly as her features contorted with unspoken confusion. "If it comes out beyond the railway then it must be well over a mile from end to end. You must know that by the time we've got that wand, there won't be enough time for me to reach the end of the tunnel before I change and nowhere to confine myself if I did." He breathed deeply. "I haven't had my last dose of Wolfsbane, Tonks. And I'm not prepared to escape one confined space full of potential victims only to lock myself inside another."

He held her gaze gently. "So it's quite simple really. Either we find me a dose of Wolfsbane before moonrise. Or…" He smiled sadly. "Or I have to stay behind."

**A/N**: I haven't had a chance to do my thanks or my responses yet - I thought it would be preferable to get the chapter up first. Watch out on my profile for the responses link to follow. :)


	35. Rock and a Hard Place

**A/N**: I have been asked to point out that due to my beta currently being in the Caribbean (swine! Ahem, sorry…;)) I am flying unbeta-ed this week. So all errors, plot inconsistencies, spelling and grammar mistakes are entirely my own….;)

_**35: Rock and a Hard Place**_

The door to Rebekah's office had been left ajar. Luck, it seemed, was on their side.

"Where did you last see it?" Tonks was the first to cross the threshold, wand extended before her as she silently cast out magical feelers to check for hidden booby traps.

"It was on the desk." Rebekah's face was pale and drawn as she entered what was technically her room with eyes lit up by nervousness. "But I doubt it'll still be anywhere that obvious."

"We should be so lucky." Lingering in the doorway, Harry flung his invisibility cloak over his shoulders once more, leaving his head floating bizarrely in the shadowy air. "I'll keep watch out here."

"Thank you, Harry." Remus nodded to his student as he turned and began to rifle his way through the papers on top of Rebekah's desk. He had not wanted the young man to come – indeed he had argued against it almost intensely as hurried plans had been thrown together mere minutes before. But Harry had proved stubbornly beyond persuading and Remus and Tonks had not been able to spare the time it would take to argue with him.

Hermione and Ron had at least proved easier to persuade out of joining them – though, admittedly, that was not much of a statement given Harry's near belligerence on the subject – as they had been needed to act as decoys. Both of Harry's friends, their hair and robes transfigured, had agreed to remain huddled beside the carefully disillusioned hole that had been hurriedly cut in the wall, pretending to be Rebekah and Remus for the benefit of any Death Eaters who might tune in to their magical feed to watch the sport before the retrieval party had time to return. The entrance to the escape tunnel was a mere ten yards down the corridor from the hastily created exit and since they were certain that the staff could be rushed down and out into the tunnel before any watching Death Eaters would have time to act, it seemed logical not to tip their hand too early. And at least with Hermione and Ron in attendance, they would have some manner of magical protection.

As now, thank Merlin, did he.

His fingers squeezed almost possessively around the smooth reassuring wood of his newly regained wand. The relief he had felt as Harry, smiling slightly, had held it out to him was almost indescribable; he had been so caught up in the feeling that he had almost missed the young man's quiet explanation of how he had retrieved it from Hagrid. The last few hours, as he had felt the wolf rise within him, knowing that imminent teeth and claws were likely to be his only defence against the darkness brewing around him, had been terrible. But now, he had magic again. He had another way, the other way that Albus Dumbledore had worked so hard to offer him all those years before. _This_ was who he was. This was the part of him that mattered.

The magical part. The _human _part.

And his wand was not his only reminder.

He glanced at Tonks, hair still oddly lank but dark eyes intense as she yanked open a wooden box that was standing on a bookshelf. There was so much between them still unsaid, so much that _needed_ to be said, if only the time could be found. But that time was not now and they knew it, both knew it, mutual agreement spoken in a single glance as they had climbed stealthily up the stairs to Level Five.

_We need to talk_, her eyes had said. _But now is not the time_.

He had nodded his agreement once. And then they had moved on.

But somehow, it was enough, knowing they were going to talk, that she was here with him. In his heart, he clung to that humanity.

The wand was not on the desk. And he was wasting precious time.

"I'm going to go." His voice sounded oddly hollow in the small office. Tonks' head snapped up instantly but he pointedly avoided her gaze, turning instead towards Rebekah. "This ladder is in the reception, correct?"

Rebekah nodded briskly as she resumed her search of the desk drawers. "Under the chair in the far corner. Tap your wand three times against the knot on the back leg and say _Anthony_. That's the password."

"And it goes straight down to near the tunnel entrance?"

Rebekah's eyes never left her search. "It's for mass evacuations, like I said. It'd be a bit silly not to have quick way to get to it from the staff level. The bottom's wand sealed though so…"

"Don't wait for me." Remus' quiet voice was nonetheless ripe with command. "If you feel so inclined, leave it open, but don't take any risks."

"Look who's talking." Abandoning her search, Tonks swivelled on her heel. "Well, if we're going we'd better get…"

"_We?_" It was as though an icy hand had closed around his heart. _Oh, no, what is she doing, we've been through this already…_"Tonks, I've already said I'm going alone. You're _not_ coming."

"Bloody am." The Auror's words were brusque and frankly dismissive. "Zelia said it's a big lab and two hands are better than one."

Remus fought manfully not to glare at her. "Which is why you need to stay here," he managed, his tone impressively reasonable considering the well of unreasonableness that was churning against the outer corners of his brain. "Finding the wand is far more important that finding me Wolfsbane."

"Rebekah can manage."

Reason was fraying at the edges. "And if she can't? What becomes of all of those innocent people when the building locks down and…"

"Actually," Rebekah's voice cut softly, almost gently into the brewing argument. "I've just found it."

There was a pause. Slowly, Remus turned his head to where his cousin was standing almost diffidently as she hefted a bundle of perhaps twenty wands bound together with string. One twitched between her fingers.

"This one's mine," she stated with a slightest hint of a smile. "And here's everybody elses."

Remus couldn't help but feel that the vaguely triumphant expression that flashed over Tonks' features was highly unfair. "See?" she said with a smile that verged on smirkdom. "No more excuses."

It was no good. Reason had fled and calmness along with it. "No more excuses?" Tonks' smile melted instantly as the voice of Remus' glare burned into her, his low, dangerous tone a vivid accompaniment. "Well, how about _this_? What if there is no Wolfsbane left in Zelia's lab?" His voice rose in pitch and volume, swelling with the weight of sudden fear. "And what if the room locks down and we're trapped in there together as I _change_? What if I _tear you limb from limb_, what _then_?"

Tonks' eyes flared with a sudden rage of her own although her voice, when it came, was soft and ironclad. "And what if you change in a _corridor_?" she retorted, her words shaking with suppressed emotion. "What if you get onto the stairs and start tearing _Death Eaters_ limb from limb? I know you, Remus – _any _death while transformed, even one of _them_, would be abhorrent to you. And do you think they would just let you run around loose, taking them out one by one? _No_. They would kill you or worse, they'd _cage_ you and Kiss you along with everyone else come the morning. And _that's_ why I'm coming." Her eyes met his, intense and filled with a powerful mixture of desperate fear and grim determination. "Because _you_ need protecting. And if you have to _die_ to protect who you are, then I'd rather it was me who did it than anyone else in the world." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "And I think that you would too."

Remus couldn't speak. There were no words that could adequately express the mixture of fear, horror, gratitude and relief that was coursing through him in that instant.

_Finally. Somebody who understands_. _Someone who will do what is necessary when the moment comes._

_Even if I'd rather it was anyone but her._

Tonks' gaze never left his face. "So let's go," she added softly. "Shall we?"

It was a simple nod. But it spoke volumes more than a library full of words.

Wordlessly, the Auror and the Professor turned and side-by-side they moved purposefully towards the door. Remus' mind was already flashing ahead towards the task in hand, his thoughts whirling, his eyes staring, absent and unseeing at the quiet reception ahead.

_We've got ten minutes, maybe fifteen at the most to get to the lab find the Wolfsbane and get out again before the Lockdown. So we just have to_…

"Professor Lupin!"

It was only the detachment of his musings that prevented Remus from jumping near out of his skin. Harry's head, which had appeared out of nowhere mere inches in front of him, was gasping breathlessly as invisible hands shoved both Remus and Tonks unceremoniously back into the office.

"Someone's coming!" he hissed frantically. "Hide!"

Hide. A good idea, but rather difficult to execute in such confined…

"Remus! Rebekah! Get under the cloak!" Tonks was already moving, shoving the slightly alarmed looking Rebekah into the furthest corner of the office as she all but hurled Harry down on top of her. Remus was not slow to follow, dropping to his knees into the corner beside his cousin as Harry swept his cloak out and dragged it over them both. Tonks, meanwhile, had dived down into the restricted space beneath Rebekah's desk, tapping her wand against her own head as, like the yolk from a breaking egg, a wave of disillusion surged down and shrouded her from view.

She was only just in time.

Brusque footsteps, two, or perhaps three sets of feet, echoed down the corridor. Remus could hear Rebekah's harsh breathing as her shoulder pressed uncomfortably against his back, her fingers gripping his shoulder like twisting vices; he could feel the jerk of tension that seized Harry's body as the young man crouched awkwardly against his teacher's other side, one hand grasping his wrist for desperate balance. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his blood racing and burning; he could feel the shivers of impending moonrise as they raced throughout his slender form but there was more as well – he could feel the heat from his companions, feel the blood that surged through their veins as their skin pressed against his and for an instant, he had to suppress a powerful, irrational urge to leap up and flee before he turned around and ripped them both to shreds.

_Calm down, Lupin. You never used to be this bad before a no-Wolfsbane moon. You're not going feral. It's in your head, it's in your head_….

"It's almost time."

_Dolph_.

_I want to kill him. Kill him! The lying, deceitful…_

It took all the strength that Remus had to fight down the sudden and primal desire to leap to his feet and rip his fellow werewolf's throat out. He could almost see it in his mind's eye, the gush of blood, Dolph's wide eyes as the life drained from his hated face…

He gulped, swallowing almost painfully as he battled to repel the urge to fight and howl and drive away the hated threat to his hunting, his prey, but when the smooth, slick tone of the werewolf Death Eater rang out again, it almost sent his vicious instincts reeling free once more.

What was the _matter _with him?

"I trust everything is ready?" The Germanic lilt to the Austrian's tone gave a slightly sharpened edge to his question, like a knife blade rasping over stone. "I do not want to wake in the morning and find things are not yet in place."

"It's all where it should be, Adolphus." Remus recognised the low voice that replied as that of the Death Eater called Gibbon. "The staff and Lupin are all sealed inside the room you prepared. I've left Amycus and Alecto and a couple of others in charge of guarding the werewolf cages overnight and Vole to watch the door to the room where we're keeping the Dementors…"

"Vole?" Dolph's interruption was sharp. "You know as well as I do that he's pathetic in their presence. He'll be a quivering wreck before midnight."

Gibbon's answering chuckle was unpleasant. "Well, then maybe he shouldn't have been so mouthy earlier. It's a fine lesson to the others about shutting up and doing as you're told." In apparent response to some unseen look from Dolph, Gibbon's tone became smooth and dismissive. "Don't worry, old friend. I'll take his place after moonrise. Your hooded pets don't bother me much anymore."

"And the others?"

Gibbon chuckled coldly once more. "I've sent everyone else down to that laundry room where I've set up the live viewing feed of Lupin and the staff. It should be good sport tonight."

"Good." There was a gruff note to Dolph's voice now as he and his companion came to an apparent halt out in reception; the quiet swearword that passed through Harry's lips at this development implied he had spent rather too much of the previous year in the company of his godfather. "What about outside? We can't guarantee the Aurors won't make an appearance."

There was a slight edge to Gibbon's response that Remus could not quite place. "I've got teams on broom-back patrolling the perimeter of the anti-apparition wards in case the Aurors show up unexpectedly and two more are on guard at the door until the Lockdown is complete. But I can't imagine we'll have company. Not with _Bella _in custody."

There was no mistaking the almost palpably deliberate nonchalance in Dolph's reply. "Now, Valerian, what is that look for?"

"Are you _sure_ you don't know anything about her capture?" Gibbon's tone was heavily laden with suspicion. "It's rather convenient to have the Aurors and the Order so distracted when the time came to bring in Lupin and the two of you have hardly been the best of friends…"

"Do you _blame _me?" Dolph's voice was coldly incredulous. "The woman knowingly sent me into a cave with _a transforming werewolf_ last summer! I was lucky I only lost a few chunks of my hand instead of my life!"

"You did attack her sister!"

Dolph's voice took on a tone of airy unconcern. "That was _years_ ago. And I was only being _friendly_. Narcissa blew the entire incident out of all proportion. How was I supposed to know she and Malfoy were engaged?"

Gibbon's tone was darkening by the minute. "You must have known that Bellatrix would be angry. And no one holds a grudge like she does." His voice was outright menacing now. "Except maybe you."

Dolph's exaggerated sigh echoed across the reception. "Oh, for goodness sake. _Honestly_, Valerian. Do you really think I would be so foolish as to turn Bellatrix over to the Aurors against the Dark Lord's wishes?"

There was a long silence. And then, grudgingly, Gibbon conceded. "No."

"Precisely." Dolph's voice snapped like a closing trap. "And it's not as though we can't retrieve her easily enough. Now that the Dementors are ours, Azkaban is nothing but a glorified dormitory."

"I suppose so." Gibbon did not sound entirely convinced but clearly he was in no mood to argue. "Do you still want me to hold onto that bottle?"

Remus' instincts flared at the slight note of concern that rippled through Dolph's voice. "You do still have it?"

"Right here." There was a light chink as something glassy was tapped with what sounded like a knife-blade. "But I still don't understand…"

"It's always best to take precautions, Valerian." Once again, Dolph's tone set Remus' teeth quite literally on edge. "You took care of the rest as I asked?"

"Of course I did." Gibbon sounded vaguely offended. "But how about you, Adolphus? Have you taken your Wolfsbane or do you need…?"

"Of course I have." Dolph's tone was dismissive and abrupt. "With all the dark creatures enclosed within this building tonight, I'd be climbing the walls by now if I hadn't." He laughed cruelly. "Lupin must be in quite a state by now. I only wish I could watch myself."

The laugh drove into his veins like poison, tearing at his insides. He longed to rise, to strike, to rip apart his rival until…

Rival? 

And then, through the flood of instinct and emotions, Dolph's words finally hit home.

Climbing the walls…Climbing the walls like me… 

Dark Creatures. Oh Merlin.

He was so tense, so tightly wound, so irrationally out of control, in ways he had never been before. But when before had there been other werewolves so close to him at imminent moonrise, rivals to the bite and to the kill?

That had to be it. That had to be why he was finding his instincts so much harder to control than ever in his past. It had been documented by magical creature scholars that the presence of others of their kind close to the rise of the moon often led to irrational outbreaks of anger and unprovoked violence amongst werewolves – that was why the residents of the Feral Institute were always caged hours in advance of the moon. But aside from that night when Kane had come to Hogwarts – _and I was tense then, too, unnaturally so _– Remus had rarely if ever spent a full moon night anywhere near another werewolf.

Not to mention the cluster of Dementors waiting a few floors below. It was a wonder he had any sanity left.

_Now you know what's wrong. So damned well control it!_

Gibbon was speaking again and Remus could almost sense his smirk. "Don't worry, I'll give you a full account of the festivities. And speaking of which…"

"Go." Dolph's voice was equally self-satisfied. "Join the others downstairs. And do enjoy."

"Oh, I shall." Gibbon's tone shifted suddenly, from sickeningly smug to a vaguely patronising sneer. "Are _you _coming?"

Remus felt himself frown. Why would he suddenly start talking to Dolph as though he…

"No. No, I don't think so. It's not really my sort of thing."

Remus froze. Against his back, he felt Rebekah go equally rigid.

For even without the apparently affected stutter, there was no mistaking that hesitant, high-pitched voice.

_Cymone_.

Or at least whoever was wearing her face.

Gibbon's cold laugh bounced from wall to wall in a slowly swelling crescendo. "Now, why doesn't that surprise me? Well, suit yourself. See you after moonrise, Adolphus."

"And you, Valerian."

Footsteps retreated. A moment later, the lift gave a clank as it lowered away, presumably bearing Gibbon with it. And then…

"I want one thing to be clearly understood." Dolph's voice was deceptively casual. "If you ever breath so much as a word to him about my turning Bellatrix in, I'll hang you by what guts you have from the nearest tree. Is that clear?"

"P…perfectly." Ah. Perhaps the stutter had not been so affected after all. "But…" The fake Cymone's voice slipped into a nervous curiousness. "But, I thought you said that You-Know-Who approved Bellatrix's sacrifice so that the plan could succeed…"

Dolph chuckled slightly. "Oh, he did. She's been on thin ice ever since the mess she and Malfoy made in the Department of Mysteries, and after she interfered with Kane's plan at Hogwarts, it had definitely started to crack. She's just too unstable these days, more a liability than a help. Snape and Alecto have filled her up with a fine lexicon of false information to share with the Ministry though and besides, as I said, it'll be easy enough for the Dark Lord to get her back if he really wants her." He snorted. "Although why anyone would…"

"But… you told Gibbon…"

"…That I wouldn't dream of turning her in against the Dark Lord's wishes. And I didn't." There was a smug note to Dolph's tone that did little aid Remus' ongoing battle to prevent himself from wreaking havoc on Dolph's fragile still human flesh. "I turned her in with his blessing." A half-sound implied that the fake Cymone had intended another mild protest, but Dolph rapidly forestalled. "Oh, do stop fussing," he drawled wearily. "Why don't you go down and join the others to watch Lupin take his chunk of flesh? I would have thought you'd have quite enjoyed watching him mutilate a room full of innocents."

There was an odd silence, strangely drawn out. When Dolph's voice finally broke its hold, it was filled with mordant mockery. "Oh, what's the matter?" he drawled tauntingly. "Don't you want to see the blood gushing through his teeth? Does the thought of it make you _uncomfortable_?"

The fake Cymone's reply was filled with repressed shuddering. "It's just…just, I've been working with the people that he's going to kill for months now and…"

Oh, don't tell me you're pining for the staff!" Dolph gave a loud snort of laughter. "You've betrayed closer friends than this in your time! What is it you'll miss, Zelia's harmony candles or Aylward's steely glare? Perhaps you're pining for Unwin's grumbling or Croll's charming sneer…"

"Didn't Snape ask you to spare Croll?" The fake Cymone ventured uncertainly. "Something about him being a friend of the family?"

"Oh, yes." Dolph said casually. "But unfortunately, there's going to be a horrible misunderstanding. I'll apologise to Severus of course, but…"

The fake Cymone sounded bewildered. "But why? Why risk making another enemy?"

"Because I don't _like_ Croll," Dolph words were laced with an almost vindictive menace. "I don't like _any_ of them. Self-righteous, superior _bastards,_ with their tests and their potions and their cages, patronising me as though one simple bite has changed the fact I'm ten times better than the lot of them. Well, now let's see how _they_ like being caged, how they like the long slow dread of the impending moon and the pain that it will bring. I wanted their deaths to be poetic, not some brusque _Avada Kedavra _and that's _exactly _what I intend to do. Not to mention that if by chance any of them should survive with mere bites, they'll make an excellent addition to the rank of our little feral army. The jailors become the slaves." His voice shimmered with cruel pleasure. "I was going to do it myself. But in the end, it's all the better that their killer will be that _smug bastard_ Lupin."

Remus felt Harry jerk against him – it was all he could do to keep from starting himself.

_Well. It doesn't sound like he's very fond of me. An I don't think that's the moon talking_…

"You…don't like him much, do you?" The fake Cymone almost seemed to speak Remus' thoughts aloud.

"I hate him." Dolph's response was bizarrely offhand. "Profoundly."

"But why? I mean… what's he ever done to you?"

"He _exists_." Dolph's voice was almost a snarl; it took the full weight of Remus' will to keep him from snarling in reply. "Oh, he was never my favourite little minion of Dumbledore during the first war but _now_…" He cursed loudly. "How _dare_ he? How dare that obnoxious half-blood swan around free and self-righteous whilst I, a pureblood of the finest calibre, am locked away to suffer? We have both had our feral moments, our foolish slips out of control, but yet he teaches in a Merlin-cursed _school _while I am locked away and left to rot in the middle of nowhere with a pack of _filthy werewolves_!" For a moment, there was no sound but the harsh rasp of Dolph's breath as his tirade settled back into icy rage. "But he will pay for his impertinence. When his _Hauptgericht Warnung_ is complete, he will understand his place at last."

"_Hauptgericht Warnung?_" Again, the fake Cymone spoke the question that was flashing across Remus' mind. "What's that?"

Dolph chuckled nastily. "It's German," he said softly, "For _main course warning_. Let's see how Dumbledore's civilised, privileged werewolf enjoys waking up tomorrow morning to find himself full-bellied on the remains of the Institute staff. He'll _beg _for the blessed relief of a Dementor's Kiss when he's done – if he still has his own mind to use. Which I _doubt_."

There was a vague edge of discomfort to the fake Cymone's tone. "So it's just revenge?"

Dolph's retort was a sneer. "What's the matter? Having _regrets_?"

"Of course not." But Remus was not convinced by the tone and neither, apparently, was Dolph.

"Oh, get a hold of yourself," he snapped impatiently. "You betrayed the other three without much hesitation. Why should you feel so uncomfortable at completing the set?"

A nasty, frost-like prickle ran across Remus' spine. He felt Harry tense sharply.

The fake Cymone mumbled something too low for Remus to hear. Dolph gave a cruel laugh.

"Well, it's a little too late to be feeling sorry for your _poor old friend_. You got him into this, after all. You didn't _have _to push him down that chute."

There was another dribble of mumbling but this time Dolph cut the indistinct words away mid thread.

"Oh, stop being pathetic," he retorted in disgust. "I have to get to my chamber before the change. Get downstairs and wait at the door, if you don't want to watch. There's still time for the Aurors to interfere and you may be needed."

"But this is the last cycle?" The fake Cymone spoke more audibly once more. "Once the moon is risen and the building locked down, you won't need me to be disguised to deflect anyone who comes from the Ministry. Can I just let the Polyjuice wear off now?"

"Be my guest," Dolph replied indifferently. "Not that it'll make much improvement."

"It will to me," the fake Cymone's reply was fervent. "I think being a woman for so long has sent me a bit _funny_."

Dolph's laugh was long and disdainful. "What?" he retorted. "Funnier than _twelve years as a rat?_"

The frosty prickle became ice. The world froze.

He heard Harry's gasp but it barely registered for the realisation, the truth that had smacked its way into his brain had set his mind reeling. Pieces dropped into place one by one - the familiarity of Cymone's twitchy movements, the nervousness displayed whenever Remus was nearby, the grumbling, even the tone of voice – suddenly, it all fitted together into a sharp and terrible whole that filled Remus with sickened realisation to the very depths of his soul.

_Oh God. Peter. It's Peter._

**A/N**: Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: NaturallyInsane, Paloma, elka78, Snowfall, Bardlover, kitkatgirl11, RC, theeunknownfactor, Conn JS1, morgan, Pickledishkiller, TheJazz, EllaJ.W, phoenixtear19, Anonymous, RebeccaGoose, Howling-wolf, Ruby-Linkle, cellorockmyworld, Camilinha, Mandalen, LupinLover99, krumfan, le petit chou, Kailin, JamieGlasgow4, aurelie1, Rel Fexive, Gyllenaly, Potter's Muse, Zevazo, felixgirl, purebristles, Gilpin, Ecstatic-Future-Novelist-Gurl and HLBr. You lighten my dreary days. :)

As usual, links to my reviewer responses over on LJ can be found on my profile. :)


	36. Moment of Truth 1

**A/N**: Yet again, I feel obliged to point out that I am flying footloose and beta-free. So yet again, all cock-ups are my fault. ;) Also, before I start, I do want to clear one thing up - last week, in my post, I made a boo-boo. When checking through my chapter prior to posting, I realised that given that chapter's long eavesdropping and a couple of other things that need to happen before moonrise, I hadn't given my heroes enough time to get all the necessaries done. So (and I'd _swear _I did this) I changed the time reference in that chapter. But when I glanced through it again after posting, the blasted time reference was back at the original too short setting. I don't know how it happened but it has so - poo. ;) So I'd like you to scrub that from your memory and assume that from the start of this chapter they have between fifteen and twenty minutes left to go. Okay? ;)

_**36: Moment of Truth - Part One**_

It was as though the world had vanished behind a contorted lens and a mystery puppet master had seized his strings and forced his body into automatic motions unsanctioned by his brain. Numb-minded, battling down a swell of violent and contrasting emotion, Remus later only vaguely recalled that it was he who had restrained Harry as he had half risen beneath the cloak with death in his green eyes, clamping one hand emphatically across the young man's mouth to still a cry of fury as the other seized and restrained his wand arm to prevent the furious charge intended to end in the annihilation of the man who had sold his parents to their doom. Hazily, he recalled a brief, if mercifully silent struggle, remembered glimpses of Rebekah's confused but determined eyes as she came to his aid and then suddenly, Harry was still once more, his eyes filled with a dangerous cocktail of suppressed rage and unspoken apology as the clank of the lift that carried Peter from his reach faded away into nothing. A few seconds later, Dolph's footsteps had also faded out of earshot.

And then in a rippling flurry, Tonks reappeared out of the hazy distortion beneath the shadowy desk, bumping her head only once as she crawled out on all fours and heaved herself upright. Grasping her wand firmly, she turned to face the corner into which her three companions had been shoved.

"Come on," she whispered sternly. "We don't have much time."

Mechanically obedient, Remus pulled himself to his feet as Harry also rocketed upright beside him, emerald gaze still rich with barely concealed rage, as surges of tightly repressed anger flowed out from his body in waves.

Tonks' eyes fixed on the young man instantly. "Don't even _think _about it," she admonished sharply. "I know who that was behind Cymone's face as well as you do and I know what the bastard's done in his time. Trust me Harry; _every person_ in this room would like the chance to smack that little rat Pettigrew into orbit almost as much as you do right now. But now is _not_ the time. There are more than twenty innocent lives we have to save first." She turned brusquely to Rebekah. "Go with Harry and get down that ladder. I want everyone out of here ASAP."

Rebekah nodded, her fingers still clutching the bundle of wands. "Here," she said suddenly, drawing a long, dark ebony wand from the cluster and pressing it into Tonks' hand. "If you do get trapped after moonrise, this will enable you to open the internal doors. They're keyed to staff wands only."

Tonks raised the dark wand slowly. "Isn't this…"

Rebekah grinned tightly. "Croll's. It seemed appropriate."

Tonks grinned back. "Thanks. Now _get out of here_. And take him with you."

She nodded at Harry. The young man glanced back at her, and to Remus' surprise, suddenly gave an impetuous smile of his own.

"Tonks," he said with almost casual thoughtfulness. "Didn't I hear them say that most of the Death Eaters in the building were gathered in one ground floor room to watch the slaughter of the staff?"

The Auror eyed him warily. "Harry…"

He shrugged in response. "Don't worry, I'm not planning on charging in with wand blazing. But if someone were to _accidentally_ wand seal that door closed…"

Tonks' answering grin was outright gleeful. "That would be… _unfortunate_." Her expression grew abruptly more serious. "But that _someone_ isn't to take any risks. If it's a choice between sealing the door and getting out, _get out_. I mean it."

Harry nodded. "I will. Rebekah?"

"Coming." It was almost a shock to Remus to realise that his cousin was suddenly staring at him. Her eyes were solemn and serious. "Good luck, Remus," she said softly.

Remus met her gaze with equal gravity, pulling himself out of his shocked stupor with sheer determination. "Good luck to you too. And Rebekah…" His shoulders tightened at the thought, but he couldn't bear the idea of what would happen at Winter Hollow if he failed to emerge come the morning. "If anything happens to me…"

Rebekah gave a wan but understanding smile. "I'll look out for your father. You have my word."

Remus managed a smile in return. "Thank you."

Rebekah nodded slightly in acknowledgement. And then, turning away, she joined Harry and moved hurriedly out of the room.

And that left only Tonks.

For a moment, he could only stare at her. It was strange to think that it had been less than twenty-four hours ago that they had stood together in this very room and all but screamed at each other with the force of their emotions. The woman he loved but refused to love, the woman he wanted but dared not have, the woman who loved him but truly shouldn't – so much had befallen them both in so short a space of time that their tortured exchange seemed a vast eternity ago. She was his hope and his despair all at once.

_Merlin, if things were different, if we lived in another world_…

Tonks swallowed hard, her mind apparently dwelling briefly upon similar ideas. "Come on," she said softly. "We're running out of time."

They moved quickly then, side by side as they swept into the corridor at a very brisk walk that verged on running and headed back once more for the lift near the boardroom that gave access to Zelia's lab. A run would have perhaps been more speedy in the short time, but both knew that rushing blindly would probably only result in numerous delays to pick Tonks up. Remus could feel Tonks' eyes raking the side of his face but determinedly he did not turn to meet her gaze.

"Are you all right?" Her voice, when it came, was soft and low. "You know, with Peter Pettigrew and everything…"

He did not falter in his rapid step. "Fine."

"Liar."

This time he did turn his head. "Well, what did you _expect_ me to say?" he retorted hotly. "No, I'm _not_ fine? That I'm trying to face the fact that my former friend, the friend who sold out James, Lily and Sirius, is here and was willing to condemn me to what he _knows_ is my nightmares personified? That it was all I could do to shut myself down before I leapt up and joined Harry in pounding him down to a greasy pulp? Is _that_ what you expected me to say?"

"No," she replied easily. "But it's what I expected you to _feel_. Remus…" Gently, she her fingers brushed against his as they walked hurriedly on. "I know you've been balancing on a knife edge for a while now and after what Dolph said, I've a pretty good idea as to why. And that's why you _can't _afford to bottle these things up. You've got enough pre-moon tension as it is without adding another couple of tonnes of mental pressure just because you won't say what you're really feeling."

He managed not to snap but it was a close run thing. "And you know what I'm really feeling, do you?"

"No." She shrugged, her dark eyes brimming with a mixture of determination, seriousness and compassion. "That's why you need to tell me. Preferably _before_ you burst."

_She's right_.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout. He wanted to kick the floor and pound the walls until his skin was raw. But the sensible, logical human part of him that was always Remus Lupin was telling him quite emphatically that Nymphadora Tonks had a point. Pressure that was not vented could only build to breaking point.

"I should have known." The words slipped out like a hiss of breath.

Her eyes searched his face, intense. "Should have known what?"

"That it was him." He sighed deeply. "That it was Peter. The signs were there; the body language, the way of speaking, the mannerisms, they were all Peter, all the boy I spent seven years of my life seeing almost every day. But I didn't see them." His voice rasped bitterly. "I wasn't looking for them."

"You had no reason to suspect…"

"I had every reason." He cut her off sharply. "He knows about werewolves, knows about _me_. I should have known he'd be involved and I should have seen him from the start. He almost told you, remember, the very first day we were here? He told you he'd had a bad run in with a werewolf once and that's why he was nervous around me." He grimaced. "_I_ was that werewolf. I tried to kill him once, _would_ have killed him if Harry hadn't stepped in. But that's not why he was nervous. He was afraid because every moment he spent around me, he was expecting me to recognise him, expose him, thwart their plans before completion. And I _didn't_. I didn't see a thing." He shook his head slowly. "And now, for my blindness, forty innocent werewolves face enslavement by Lord Voldemort. I've condemned them to losing their souls."

Her fingers entwined with his abruptly, soft, warm and reassuring. "That's not going to happen, Remus," she said, her words vibrating with profound sincerity. "Rebekah and the kids will raise the alarm. Kingsley and Dumbledore will have this place swarming with Aurors long before there's time to administer the Kiss to anyone."

"And if something goes wrong? If they can't get inside quickly enough?"

Her fingers squeezed. "Don't be such a fatalist."

His smile was bitter and humourless. "Can I help it if that's the way my life tends to go?"

Tonks' eyes burned against him but he ignored her gaze, stepping forward as they arrived at the silver grill that gave access to lab on Level Four. A quick tap of his wand severed the lock and together, he and Tonks hauled the lattice open.

And found darkness and a drop. The lift was gone.

"_Lumos!_"

With Remus' steadying hand on her shoulder, Tonks leaned forwards and carefully peered inside, her wand extended before her as it cast an arching beam of light into the void.

"Smashed." She reported solemnly. "I can see twisted remains at the bottom of the shaft." Unsteadily she staggered backwards, one hand grasping Remus' robes for support. "I get the feeling that Dolph wasn't keen on the Wolfsbane being accessible."

Remus was already rolling up his sleeves. "We'll have to climb down. Or levitate."

"We can do that on the way back." Tonks brushed passed him, leaning once more into the dark abyss as Remus almost instinctively grasped her elbow. She flashed him a brief smile as she extended her wand once more. "But the quickest way down is to _jump_."

Remus blinked. "Tonks, that drop has to be more than eight metres. We'll break ourlegs!"

"Not necessarily. Watch this." Grinning now, Tonks whirled her wand in a circle, muttering under her breath. There was a flare of light and an odd, glooping sound.

Tonks beamed as she stepped back, shaking off Remus' protective hold. "Perfect," she exclaimed. "Come on then."

And before Remus could stop her, before he could even open his mouth to enquire, Tonks had stepped off the edge and vanished.

"_Tonks!_" Almost without thinking, Remus plunged forward, snatching desperately at the thin air that had a moment before held an Auror, but then gravity intervened and suddenly he was falling too, tumbling head over heel into dark, empty air, down and down towards sharp, twisted metal and the heavy impact of the drop. The floor plunged towards him, racing up to meet him, to smash his bones to powder…

And he _bounced_.

There was no twisted metal, no stab of sharp points or crunch of bones. Instead, he rebounded and then dropped abruptly once more to lie, shocked and frozen in a strange bed of soft, spongy material that rippled softly from the impact.

He blinked. _What the…?_

And then Tonks' grinning face filled his vision. "Come on, Remus!" she exclaimed, grasping his hand as she pulled him upright and onto the solid ground of the passageway where the lift, before its unfortunate demise, had previously unloaded its passengers. "Up you get!"

By the light of her now illuminated wand, Remus could see the rippling bed of foamy cushioning had spread across the entire base of the shaft. Curiously, he extended on foot and pushed against it. It wobbled invitingly

"How did you do this?" Turning away from the oddly appealing cushion, he directed the question to Tonks, who had already bent to examine the lab's locked door, a yard or two down the corridor. "I transfigured it," she told him absently, tapping at the door with her wand. "It's an old trick of my mum's. Every time she saw me climbing something more than about two foot high, she would use that spell on the ground underneath. That stuff's probably saved me from about fifty broken bones in its time."

Almost in spite of himself, Remus laughed softly. "Smart woman, your mother. I can see where you get your ingenuity from."

The smile that Tonks' flashed over her shoulder was almost shy. "Thanks."

Her eyes met his. And held.

There was long moment of silence. Unspoken words flowed between them like a river.

_This isn't the time!_

Sharply breaking their mutual gaze, Remus cleared his throat. "The door?" he prompted hoarsely.

"Right!" Tonks' head whipped back to face the lock once more, wand once more tracing circles. After a few moments more, there came a click.

Tonks climbed awkwardly to her feet. "Got it," she stated, her voice for some reason at a slightly higher pitch than was normal. "Shall we?"

Remus nodded. Carefully, he reached out and pushed the door open. Automatically, the lights flickered on.

And illuminated the scene of devastation beyond.

The room was in ruins. Tables lay overturned beside splintered chair and the shelves had ripped from the walls altogether, their contents strewn across the room in a chaotic mess of shattered glass, ripped paper and steaming slicks of liquid. The heavy cauldron that had formed the centrepiece of the room had been cleaved clean down the middle, spilling its sludgy brown contents into a sticky puddle of goo that mingled with liquids of other consistencies and hues and burped bubbles and green tinged smoke into the air where they touched. Everywhere lay shattered vials and potion bottles with no hint that any had survived.

Remus suddenly had a strong feeling about what Gibbon had been asked to _take care of._

_Tonks was right. Dolph really didn't want anyone to get hold of the Wolfsbane_.

Remus stared at the cauldron. Full of Wolfsbane, Zelia had said, the final batch for that day, due to be distributed just after Croll's ill-fated meeting. And if that was gone, she had told him of emergency supplies, saved from the batch of the day before and poured into a series of carefully sealed black bottles, marked with a wolf's head that would keep it fresh from thirty-odd hours after brewing.

The cauldron was clearly a lost cause. Its contents had already mingled with other brews and soured beyond all usefulness. But could a bottle have survived this furore? And could they find it in time if it had?

At his side, Tonks had dropped to a crouch, her finger sifting through the debris before seizing upon something and lifting it into the light. Her brow furrowed as she extended her arm and passed it to Remus.

He stared down. Thick, black glass, a bottle smashed in two. An engraved wolf's head glinted as he turned it.

"Well," Tonks' voice was shaky as she rose to stand at Remus' side once more, her fingers squeezing his upper arm in an odd gesture of mutual reassurance. "It looks like we've got a search on our hands."

**A/N**: Apologies for the short, uneventful nature of this chapter but alas due to recent illness I've fallen behind on my writing and if I didn't split this chapter, I'd almost certainly catch up on myself before I go on holiday in a month's time. And I don't want to leave people hanging…;)

Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: felixgirl, NaturallyInsane, elka78, krumfan, Camilinha, EllaJ.W, Bardlover, thee-unknown-factor, Paloma, pstibbons, Snowfall, TheJazz, Ruby-Linkle, Nienna Telrunya, Libeku Taganashi, Howling-wolf, anonymous, phoenixtear19, Kailin, JamieGlasgow4, cellorocksmyworld, Lucathia Rykatu, Mandalen, aurelie1, Analia's Broom, cassie89, Rel Fexive, ARoxs, purebristles, morgan, Zevazo, sylthian, Estactic-Future-Novelist-Gurl, Leonew, Gyllenaly, Gilpin, LupinLover99, slightly so, and Jump Highly! Bless you all. :)

Review responses can be found on my LJ. Links on my profile. :)


	37. Moment of Truth 2

_**37: Moment of Truth – Part Two**_

Combining magic spells and sheer physical effort, Remus and Tonks quickly set about scouring the wreckage of Zelia's potions lab in search of any stray bottle of Wolfsbane that might have miraculously survived the devastation. By unspoken agreement, they instinctively divided the room, Tonks taking the right hand side and Remus moving to the left as they sifted through the broken glass and spilled potions. But _Accio Wolfsbane_ had failed to produce results and, in spite of Tonks' insistence that a bottle could perhaps be trapped somewhere and that searching was not a waste of time, to Remus, it already felt futile.

The moon was coming. They had ten minutes, perhaps less, before the inevitable shooting pains would course through his already shivering body and transform him utterly and without the illusive Wolfsbane, his mind would vanish with it. There was even less time before he would be forced to send Tonks on her way – in spite of her protests, he knew that she had to be out of the building by moonrise, whether or not he was with her. But the moment he had seen the wreckage of the room he had known that the Wolfsbane was a hopeless cause. The sealed-off room at the foot of the lift shaft would at least provide him with an isolated and restricted spot in which to transform and with a few prudent silencing spells, there was even a chance he might avoid detection until help arrived the next morning.

It was a vain hope. But it was all he had left.

"Ow! Bugger!"

At Tonks' quiet exclamation, Remus glanced quickly over to where the pale-faced Auror was staring irritably at her red-smeared finger.

"Tonks?" he ventured.

"I just cut myself." Her voice sounded annoyed. "Bloody glass. I should have been more careful."

You should. You really should.

Blood. There was blood. He could see it, trickling gently down as it wetted her skin and as his fevered pre-moon imagination took hold, it seemed that he could almost smell it too, a distant tang that whispered of prey, of hunger, of the overpowering need to sink his teeth against flesh beneath the light of the moon…

No! Focus! 

"Don't suck it." The admonishment was sharp, sharper than he had intended as he snapped back against the surge of bloodlust that was tumbling through his mind and it instantly froze the almost instinctive rise of her finger lip-wards. "Cleanse the wound and seal it with your wand. Merlin only knows what'll happen to you if some of this cocktail of potions gets into your blood or stomach."

"Good point." Tonks flashed him a half-hearted grin as she carefully wiped the enticing scarlet away on a corner of her robes instead. A moment later, a muttered spell had sealed the wound. "Mind you, it might have been fun. I've always wanted to be a three-headed fish or a striped giraffe." Her eyes glittered playfully for a moment. "Mind you, if it turned out to be a really bizarre concoction, I might end up as Dolores Umbridge and that would just be _freaky_…"

But Remus barely heard her, swallowing hard as his instincts roared, his eyes fixing almost hungrily on the red smear on her robes. Blood, there was still blood…

_Forget the blood! Human, you're human, you're human_…

"Remus?"

In spite of the quietness of her voice, Remus nonetheless started violently at the sound of his name. His eyes snapped up to find her gazing at her, her features rich with a mixture of uncertainty, sympathy and concern. And he knew she understood.

"How long until moonrise?" she asked softly.

_Not long enough._ Remus at least managed to stabilise his voice before replying. "Maybe ten minutes. Maybe less."

For a tantalising instant, she held his gaze before her eyes dropped back to the muddle of glass and potions at her feet. "Then we'd better hurry," she stated almost matter-of-factly. "We don't have much time."

_No. No, we don't_.

_And I can't let you waste what time you have_.

For a moment, he could only stare at her. His eyes drank in the pale, smooth contours of her face, the unexpected lankness of her usually vibrant hair, her almost frantic movements as she rooted through the debris that surrounded her and he felt the last remote shred of his hope drain slowly away. For he knew what he was doing; he knew that his mind was fixing a final image, a last impression of the woman he loved, before facing the necessity of sending her out of his life forever. It was pointless, hopeless… Time had run out, for Wolfsbane, for them, and all they were doing now was delaying the inevitable. And he would not let her suffer for it.

_I don't have much time. But you…_

_I want you to have more time than this_.

"You have to go."

He had intended to speak the words softly but they blurted from his lips instead, echoing in the air, reverberating, repeating until they almost seemed to fill the room and press down upon its occupants. He saw her freeze, statue-like, for a moment before her head turned slowly upwards, her dark eyes flashing and features fierce, a sign, if he had ever needed one, that he was about to have a fight on his hands. But his resolve was steeled now, solid and immovable; she could scream and shout at him as much as she pleased but if he had to use the Imperius curse to get her out of the building before moonrise, he would.

_I will not let you die because of me. However much you seem to want to_.

"We've been through this." Her voice, when it came, was low and dangerous. "I'm not leaving you, Remus."

"Yes you are." Remus was quite proud of the cool, matter-of-fact tone with which he responded as he rose slowly to his feet to face her. "We're out of time, Tonks. We tried _Accio_ and it failed. Do you really think there's any Wolfsbane here to find?"

She too abandoned her crouch then, rising to her feet, slow and fluid, a gradual but determined ascent. Her expression was outright challenging. "Remus, we've barely even started looking…"

"And we don't have time to finish." Almost harshly, he intruded on her protest and cut away her words. "This room is the best I'm going to get for a transformation – with the lift gone, the wolf will go nowhere and endanger no one." He hardened his voice. "And that means I don't need you here. So if you want to escape the Lockdown, you have to go now. I'll be safe enough."

"_Safe?_" Her voice cracked slightly as it rose. "Remus, look at this place! There's glass everywhere! If you transform in here, you'll cut yourself to ribbons!"

Remus was already shaking his head. "I'll be fine. Once you've gone, I'll have time to clean up a little…"

It was her turn to slap away his words. "_We'll _clean it up faster together."

He could feel the spiralling rise of helpless anger at her pig-headedness but he fought to damp it down, desperate not to reduce a reasoned argument to bickering once more. "I'm _not_ going to let you die down here because of me."

Her glare was hot and searing, unrelenting in intensity. "I think that's _my _decision."

Restraint was rapidly losing the fight. "You _want _to die?" he snapped harshly, observing her slight wince at his pointed rebuke. "For _what, _Tonks? For the sake of some twisted sense of loyalty? Out of stubbornness, maybe? That's _not _good enough for me!"

Her fists clenched at her sides as she took half a step towards him. "You _know_ why I'm staying."

_Oh Merlin, not now_! Yes, fine, he loved Tonks dearly, but damn it all, she _really _needed to work on her priorities; her timing for these conversations was abominable to say the least.

Remus ignored her implications, determined to stick to his point and not get drawn in to yet another pointless, emotional debate. "You need to go," he retorted bluntly. "You need to save yourself while you still can." His eyes fixed on hers and held. "I _mean_ it."

"And what, you expect me to just _abandon_ you?" She took another step, glass crushing beneath her feet with an ominous crunching sound, her eyes never breaking with his. "To leave _you_ here to die or worse?"

His jaw clenched. _Bloody hell, couldn't she see?_ "_I _don't have a choice. You do."

Tonks' heart-shaped face tightened grimly, ominously even as he realised an instant too late that he had given her a precious opening. "Yes, I do have a choice, Remus," she replied quietly, her words shimmering with deliberately paced anger. "And I've made it. If you stay, I stay. Simple as that."

_Dammit, no! Go, bloody go, just go_. _How can you be so stubborn? How can you be so stupid?_

"Just _go_, will you?" Frustration, rage, desperation – they welled within him, rising uncontrollably and suddenly he was shouting, the dam bursting as anxiety and fury washed away his frantic calm. He strode forwards, glass shards smashing as he kicked them from his path – it took all the strength he had not to grab here by the shoulders and shake her like a disobedient puppy. "Get _out _of here!" He drew a desperate, furious breath. "So help me, if you don't go right now, I'm going to…"

"What?" She cut his words off sharply, thrusting her face belligerently up to his. "You'll what, Remus? Throw me out? I'd _love _to see you try!"

It roared through his veins, a wolf's lust, a wolf's fury, screaming against the fragile human body from which it was soon to be freed. It burst into his mind's eyes, urging, screeching at him to let it free, to rip, to tear, to slaughter…

"I'll _kill you_!"

Kill you, kill you, kill you, kill you… 

Treacherous echoes recycled his words until they were swallowed by silence. Her eyes burned his face with excruciating intensity.

"You'll kill me." Her voice, when it came, was icily flat. "Remus, for Merlin's…"

"Stay here and I'll kill you." His words slapped hers away ruthlessly. "Oh, I won't mean to. I won't want to. But when that moon comes up, Tonks, what I want, what I mean doesn't _matter_ any more! I will _kill _you. I will _eat_ you, _alive_ if that's how you happen to be!" He felt his voice rising as a vicious cocktail of bile and wolfish instinct waged war at the very thought of such a moment. "I won't care who you are, I won't care about how I feel; I will sink my teeth into your flesh and rip it into pieces, I will tear you into nothing more than a few raw chunks of meat and bone and I will stand over your scattered remains with your blood on my teeth and tongue and howl my joy at the moon!" His hand grasped her arm almost instinctively, biting into the fragile mass of skin as though to prove her peril. "You will die and I will _enjoy_ it. I will revel in the taste, the kill and it doesn't matter _who_ you are, not once I'm in that body and sharing that mind! No…" He stared at her, her heart-shaped face staring up, her eyes unreadable as he slowly, tentatively withdrew his hand and freed her from his hold. "No," he repeated softly, his voice ringing with sad truth. "Caring won't come until the morning. Caring won't come until I wake up tomorrow coated in blood and gore and surrounded by lifeless chunks of a body that used to be human. A body that used to be _you_." He could feel his hands shaking as he fought a sudden desperate urge to touch his fingers to her upturned face. "And if I have enough of my own mind left to cling to, I will end my life there and then. I could never live knowing that I had so destroyed a life. Especially yours."

His words trailed away into silence. He could feel her dark eyes raking his face as she stared at him but he could not meet them then, could not do anything but gaze blankly at the detritus at his feet.

_You had to do it. She had to understand_…

And then to his utter astonishment, she _laughed._

It was an incredulous laugh, bitter and rife with disbelief but nonetheless it was enough to make Remus raise his head and gape at her. "You think this is _funny_?"

The laughter vanished instantly. "No. But I think you're _insane_."

"_What?_"

"You see I've just realised what this is." Tonks allowed no further elaboration. "I've just realised what you think of me. You think that I…" She took several deep breaths, her eyes suddenly blazing. "So I'm _stupid_ to you, Remus?" she snapped abruptly. "What, you think I'm so deluded as to think that big bad Lupin the wolf won't hurt me? That I can stay here and stroke your furry muzzle without getting ripped to shreds by the fangs?" His sudden flush at her accusations seemed to fuel her rage. "Believe it or not, I do know the drill! I do know that werewolves aren't house-pets! I'm not planning on sitting down here and watching you transform, you prat! I was going to wait at the top of the lift shaft to _protect_ you! But if you think for one minute that I'm going to bugger off and leave you here for the Dementors to snack on, _you're _even more delusional than you took _me_ for!"

He gritted his teeth, fighting off a sudden urge to shout. Of course she wouldn't have – he wasn't thinking straight. But still, it didn't change the fact that... "You shouldn't even do that. You should get out while you still…"

"I'm not leaving you." Yet again, her voice cut him off. "And don't you dare try and ask me again. It's getting bloody _repetitive_."

"_Tonks_…"

"_No_, Remus!" Her yell was suddenly wild. "No, I'm sick of it! I'm stick of you and your urges towards self-destruction! I'm stick of all the bloody sacrifice! For once in your life, will you try not to be the _martyr_?"

Incredulity rose powerfully. "_What?_"

"You heard!" The retort was lashing. "Fine, you want to worry about me? Then worry about this! How the hell am I supposed to go on _without _you?"

"Rather better in one piece than in thousands!"

"I'm _not that stupid_! Remember?" Her voice was outright scathing. "What _is_ it with you? I'm an Auror, Remus! Why do you have this ridiculous urge to protect me from dangers I know all about?"

"Because _I love you_!"

_Love you, love you, love you, love you_…

For the second time, the echo caught the words, spinning them gently away into silence. But this time, they seemed to linger rather longer.

Tonks stared at him. He stared at Tonks.

And then, slight but distinct, she _smiled_.

"About time," she said at length, wearily, relived, mordant triumph rippling in her tone. "About _bloody time_."

Remus closed his eyes. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as exhilaration and horror flooded his body as one. _I shouldn't have said_… "That is _not _a good thing, Tonks."

The lilt of her voice was dangerous. "Oh?"

He chose not to open his eyes but he could just picture the venom of her expression. "You're safer without me around."

"This from a man who once saved my life."

Remus sighed deeply, desperately, praying to any god or deity that might happen to care to instil a little sense into the woman he loved. "Loving me is dangerous. Being loved by me even more so."

"What, afraid I'll get a paper cut from your Valentine's card?"

His eyes snapped open, meeting her defiant gaze passionately. "This is _serious_. Can't you just understand? " In spite of himself, his voice trembled as memories rose, a parade of faces loved and lost to fortune, time and war. "I'm too dangerous, Tonks. And if there's one thing that life has taught me, it's that people who love me get _hurt_."

Tonks stared at him once more, her eyes widening suddenly as realisation flowed into them. And then, slowly, gently, she shook her head. "How selfish can you be?" she whispered softly.

Remus stared back. Needless to say, that was not quite the response he had expected. "_What?_"

Tonks' gaze did not waver. "You're being _selfish_, Remus."

Remus outright glared. _Why can't she understand?_ "Didn't you just finish telling me to stop being a martyr and start thinking about myself?"

"Very funny. I can hardly contain my hysteria."

Remus chose to ignore her sarcasm. "I'm thinking of _you_. You deserve _better_."

Her expression flared indignantly. "And who are _you_ to decide what the hell is best for _me_?"

"You're too young to throw your life away…"

"And you're too young to throw away _yours_!" Once again, Tonks refused to allow Remus to finish his protest. "You're not even that close to forty, Remus! You've probably got another good hundred years left in you yet! But do you know what I think?" She stiffened her jaw. "I think you've got so used to everything in your life going wrong that you've given up on being _happy_. And I love you too much to see that happen." Tentatively, uncertainly, her fingers stretched out across the chasm between them and brushed the top of his hand.

"I love you too much," she whispered again.

The silence that followed echoed and stretched across the room until it was all but deafening. His eyes met hers, and held.

The final barricades began to crumble into dust. He could feel himself weakening.

How could she feel that way about him? How could he let her feel that way when…

"No," he whispered softly, a final desperate salvo of defence. "Gods, no. Please don't. Please don't feel that way."

Tonks shrugged slightly, her smile rife with sorrow. "I can't help it. Sorry." She took a deep breath. "I love you, Remus," she said simply. "And like it or not, you're just going to have to accept that."

He could feel his head shaking almost unconsciously. "I don't think I can."

Her eyes burned into him. "_Why? _And don't give me the stock excuses this time. I want the _truth_."

The truth. What the hell was the truth? Remus could hear his heart pounding in his ears, feel his hands shaking as he fought to catch his breath, exhausted by the effort of holding up the last ashes of the barricades within. Truth, she wanted. And there was a truth. A truth that lay beneath every reason, every doubt and deflection that he could concoct, the pure distillation of his feelings that lurked deep within his very core.

He had defended that truth until now. But the wind of weariness swept through his mind and brushed the last of his defences away.

She deserves to know. I owe her that.

"I'm scared," he said.

He saw her eyes soften, saw her lips gently part.

"I trust you," she replied.

Her words were soft and simple, drifting profoundly, but Remus was sure that she did not understand the truth of such a naïve statement.

He slowly shook his head. "But how can you when I can't even trust myself? I have a wolf inside me and it's _strong_, very strong. And like it or not, I've fed it that strength more than once…"

He felt her hand brush his. "You've always won before. You will again."

"But I _haven't_."

He had to tell her. She believed him to be strong but he knew it wasn't so, he knew the weakness of his mind that had plagued him all his life. She thought she knew him but how could she? The real him was a stark truth that few people had ever known; his father, his mother, Moody and Dumbledore – they had all seen the price of his weakness. And Merlin, it hurt, but she deserved to know too, she deserved to see the truth of who – of what – he was.

He knew that she would be appalled. But at least she would leave him then and be safe.

"You don't know me, Tonks," he whispered almost desperately. "Not how you think you do." He met her eyes, fearful of what he would fine but resigned to it all the same. "I'm a weak man." He expelled the words hurriedly before they could stall on his lips, his greatest shame confessed for the first time in his life. "I've turned _feral_, Tonks. Mind, body and heart and it's happened more than once. As long as I live, I'll be a threat to everyone around me. It still calls me. And I can't promise that one day I won't call back."

**A/N**: As folks might have noticed, I'm a little late to post today. This has happened several times over the last month or two for a good reason - my family and I each have a night on which we do the cooking and it used to be that my night was Tuesday. But recently my mum, who did Wednesday nights previously, started going to a painting class on Wednesday night. This necessitated a swap between our nights and unfortunately has resulted in my continually being slowed or halted in my posting progress by the need to feed my parents. With this in mind I would like to glean an opinion from you my lovely readers - how would you all feel about another change of posting night, this time from Wednesday to Friday? I finish half an hour earlier on a Friday and don't have to cook and so would probably be able to post more promptly but I am also aware that it is quite late in the fic for a change. Opinions would be welcomed. :)

Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: **silvanelf, Bardlover, NaturallyInsane, Ella J.W, anonymous, Lady Bracknell, Gyllenaly, Rel Fexive, elka78, felixgirl, Paloma, morgan, Ruby-Linkle, Mandalen, phoenixtear19, Howling-wolf, krumfan, Pickledishkiller, Libeku Taganashi, purebristles, Snowfall, TheJazz, Camilinha, aurelie1, Gilpin **and** sylthian. **I have now topped 1000 reviewers, something I never in my wildest dreams thought would happen, so thank you, thank you, thank you yet again:)


	38. Moment of Truth 3

**A/N**: Hello peeps. :) As per the results of the viewer poll and for the convenience of both myself and my beta, I WILL be changing my posting day from next week. That means that the chapter after this one will now be posted on Friday 31st March - ie a week this Friday. Much as I would have loved to have started from this Friday, that's just not possible without running out of chapters as soon as I get back from holiday and leaving you hanging then instead. So instead I shall thank you all in advance for your tolerance of the wait and assure that in the long run, it is for the best. :)

Anyway, here we go with the final part of the chapter-I-never-intended to split...;)

_**38 – Moment of Truth – Part Three**_

There was an agonising silence. And Remus waited.

Gods, he was tired. The weight of little sleep and frantic tension seemed to shiver in his bones as the too-close moon seemed to steal away what little strength he had left– he was all but sure that only a mixture of adrenalin and sheer bloody stubbornness were keeping him from keeling over on the spot. And that weight seemed to redouble tenfold as he stared at Tonks in terrible anticipation, as he waited for the disgust to stain her features, waited for repulsion to flare in her eyes as she recoiled from him in horror as any _sane_ witch or wizard would have done.

But she didn't.

Her head tilted slightly. One eyebrow rose. Her fingers stretched out and then tightened around his.

"I know," she said softly. "Remember?"

She… _what?_ At the expression on his face, she laughed slightly, not humorous, not cold, but a simple laugh that touched the air almost because it was expected. "Remus, I _was_ there when Daniel Arden made his little announcement, you know."

Remus had almost forgotten Fenris – that day on the Resident's level seemed an eternity ago. "But that was _nothing_," he insisted. _She doesn't understand, she can't understand…_ "That was the mildest of what I've faced, if it was a true incident at all…"

"As apposed to you attacking Mad-Eye in 1981? Or nearly going for the kids when Kane invaded Hogwarts?" It was the matter-of-factness with which she extolled his greatest secrets that shocked Remus the most. "Like I said, Remus. I _know_. After we reported what happened on the Residents Level, Dumbledore took me aside and told about them. He felt I ought to know why you were likely to be sensitive about it."

It took a moment for the reality of this revelation to sink in. _Dumbledore told her? Dumbledore just went ahead and told her my biggest secret as though it was nothing, as though…_

_He told her. He told her before she…_

"You _knew_?" His voice cracked slightly at he spoke, heart suddenly torn between racing out of rhythm or stopping altogether. "You _knew_ and you still…"

"Loved you?" Tonks grimaced irritably. "How many times? It _doesn't matter_ to me, Remus."

He shook his head once more, fighting to clear it as the imminent moon tugged at his body once more. "Well, it _should_," he retorted shakily, his voice wavering with a combination of shock and disbelief. "Because it matters to me. And Dumbledore - he had no _right,_ it was mine to tell, I…"

Tonks shrugged slightly. "Well, he did and I listened and there's not much either of us can do about it. I love that old man like a grandfather, but he does like to interfere."

Remus took a moment to breathe, filling his lungs with precious air as he fought to battle down the frantic pounding of his heart. _Gods, it's getting close_… "Still…" he all but stammered. "He shouldn't…"

"Oh for pities sake!" Tonks' retort was a whiplash. "Dumbledore is _not_ the issue! Remus, do you trust me?"

"What does that have to do with…"

Yet again she cut him off. "_Do you trust me?_"

"_Yes!_ But…"

"Then why does my knowing matter?" Her hands closed almost vice like over his. "Simple answer – it _doesn't_. And why should my knowing matter when I've already told you I don't care about it? Again – it doesn't. I don't care if you've crawled on all fours and barked at the moon! You're still…"

"A _werewolf_!" With a violent jerk, Remus snatched his hand away from hers, sudden rage coursing through his veins once more at her blatant, foolish assumptions. "I'm a werewolf, a werewolf who has turned feral, who could turn feral again! Do you even understand what that means?" He did not give her chance to respond, dared not as he felt the last precious minutes of time that had left to make her see reason ebbing too quickly away. "It means that at any moment, I could turn on you, I could kill you, I could rip you to pieces for nothing more than the kicks! It means I would become a monster that I have battled to escape all my life! It means I would be _Kane_!"

"No!" Her voice slapped against him. "You could never be like that!"

His voice shivered darkly. "Then you don't know me."

"I'm starting to think I know you better than you know _yourself_. You say it as though it's _inevitable_!" Tonks hurled the words back at him, her voice rich with furious passion. "As though you're almost _waiting_ for the wolf to win!" Her tone dropped to almost a whisper, low but vibrant and strong. "But you're stronger than that, Remus. You're the strongest man I know."

_How can she think that? How can she be so naïve?_

"I'm _not_. This is _real,_ Tonks, it could happen, it could happen _tonight_…"

"I know." It was almost a shock when her hand curled up around his once more, her suddenly solemn eyes meeting his. The swell of their furious argument almost seemed to tumble away, to settle suddenly into a kind of uneasy resignation that chaffed and tugged at them both against the pull of the unavoidable change, close, so close to coming. "And I meant what I said upstairs. If it comes to it, Remus, I know that you would rather be dead than a feral." Her fingers shook against his skin. "And I'd be the one to make sure you got your wish."

And he could almost see it. He could almost see the look on her face, the horror in her eyes as she…

"_No_." He expelled the word sharply. "_No_, Tonks. I can't let you do that, don't you see? You say you know me, but I know you too! You'd blame yourself for the rest of your life!" He lowered his head, staring passed their now joined hands to the crushed glass and potion that covered the floor between them. "And I can't ask you to do that. How could I claim to love you and then subject you to that kind of pain?"

"Remus…" He heard the protest in her voice, the beginning of well meaning lies about knowing it was necessary and forgiving herself for it, and forestalled them before they could bitter the air.

"The wolf will always be there, Tonks," he said, his voice soft and low but filled with intensity as his eyes drifted towards the ceiling to avoid the inevitable pain of her gaze. "It's almost here _now_. You should be with someone whole, someone so much younger and better than me. A _normal_ man who can provide for you, can guarantee a long life and a home without the prospect of having to _slay _him if he turns into _a feral lunatic_…"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Fingers clasped his chin, dragging his face back down to confront her relentless eyes. "How many times? I _do not care_. How can you promise me that a nice, normal man won't fall off his broomstick or blow up a cauldron and scatter himself across the landscape? _Anyone_ can die, Remus! Nothing in life is certain! But I know for sure that one thing a normal man could never do is _be Remus Lupin_." Her eyes glowed. "There is nothing normal about you, Remus, and I wouldn't have you any other way. Yes, fine, you're a werewolf – but being a werewolf is what has made you the man you are. And you're a _good _man." She squared up to him almost aggressively. "And if I have a choice between trusting in your strength or running away from the wolf, I'll trust you every time."

He stared at her, stared at the determined creases that her frown cast across her otherwise smooth features, aware that her fingers still lightly touched his chin and stroked the skin there softly. And he knew.

_She means it. Dear Merlin, she means it_…

And therein lay the problem.

All his reasons, all his excuses – all were real and valid fears that tore at his soul whenever he dared to contemplate a future in her arms. But now she had touched deeper, brushed upon the edges of his deepest fear, his final, irrevocable doubt and unknowingly tried to dismiss it. But it would take more, much more, to dislodge the one pure reason that he could not allow Nymphadora Tonks to waste her life on him.

But to his astonishment, he found he wanted her to _try_.

_I'm so weak. And that's just one more reason why I shouldn't let her in_…

_But I want to tell her. Merlin, I want to tell her. _

"You shouldn't trust me." The words crept out, hesitant, uncertain but distinct. "Because it's not just the wolf I'm scared of, Tonks. It's not just the thought that I could hurt you." He took a deep and steadying breath as he braced himself for one final admission, one final thing that she really should have known all along. "It's that I'm just _not good enough_ for you."

He could see immediately that she had not grasped the entirety of what he was trying to confess. "Being a werewolf doesn't mean…"

"No." Yet again, he cut her off, unable to face the idea of dragging the misunderstanding out further. "I'm not talking about being a werewolf. I'm talking about being a _man_. _I'm_ not good enough. Not by a long way."

The silence was deafening. Her incredulous stare burned his soul.

"That's _it_?" Her voice, when it came was hushed and disbelieving. "Sweet Merlin, that's it, isn't it? _That's _why you've been pushing me away. It's not your wolf or your age or any of those other excuses you've bandied about." She almost risked a smile as the dawning of realisation washed across her face. "It's _insecurity_."

Having his innermost and profoundest fears distilled into one easily dismissible word was more than a little galling but Remus was rather too distracted to allow himself to dwell on it. "It's a little more than _that_," he began to protest. "It's…"

"_Oh_, no." The abrupt squeeze of her fingers against his chin rather effectively cut off the rest of his sentence. "I'm not going to let you complicate this again, not now we're actually _getting_ somewhere." She eyed him thoughtfully for a moment. "Do you trust me?" she repeated abruptly.

Remus frowned. "Haven't we been through this?"

Tonks sighed. "Just answer the bloody question, Lupin."

"Fine. Of course I do. But what does that have to do with anything?"

She smiled then, a wicked, secretive smile filled with her previously absent sparkle. "And you trust my judgement?"

Remus had an unpleasant feeling about where this was going. "Yes," he admitted cautiously. "But…"

Her finger slapped his lips shut. "So you trust my opinion on people?"

The feeling solidified. "Tonks…"

But the Auror seemed determined to hammer home her point. "Well, my opinion is that Remus Lupin is a wonderful man and that if anything, I don't deserve _him_." She raised an eyebrow pointedly. "So. Are you going to tell me you don't trust my judgement anymore?"

Now _there _was a no-win situation. "You're biased."

She all but smirked. "Of course I am. But didn't it ever occur to you that I'm biased for a reason? Partiality doesn't come out of nothing, you know."

He shook his head. "Tonks…"

The gentle creep of her fingers across his cheek silenced him once more. "I love you," she said softly. "And you love me. There's _nothing_ to be afraid of."

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, feel the blood racing round his body at a frantic, furious pace that seemed to scour him from the inside out. The world around seemed to shrink away into insignificance until he could see nothing but her.

Dark eyes gleaming. Heart shaped face, close, _so close_ to his.

"I might hurt you," he whispered hoarsely.

She smiled slightly, her face inching closer. "I don't care."

He could feel her breath against his lips, brushing his skin in soft and rapid exhalations. "I might let you down…"

Her eyes shuddered closed but somehow he could still feel her stare. "I don't care."

He felt her lips brush his as his own eyelids dropped down. "I don't think I'll ever deserve you."

"Think that if you want." He sensed the words rather than hearing them, felt the shape of each one as she teased his lips with hers. "But I don't care if you do."

And then there was nothing but her.

He had never known that it was possible to _feel_ so much. Her lips against his, her kiss, _their _kiss, her hands roaming through his hair, tangling, stroking, his hands sliding down her waist as her body pressed against his and then suddenly the kiss deepened and all hint of rationality vanished into nothingness.

How long he spent lost in the world that was her, Remus couldn't possibly have guessed. But somehow, it just didn't matter.

But then finally, inevitably, the real world began to intrude once more. Awareness flooded back to Remus, the shiver and shudder of his body so deeply pre-moon, the weight and exhaustion that teetered him against the brink of falling, the crackle of glass beneath their feet and suddenly her lips were gone and dark eyes stared into his, lost and fulfilled all at once.

And he knew. They both did.

_It's so close. It's too close. The moon_…

"You have to go," he whispered softly.

"I know," she breathed in reply. "But that doesn't make this any easier."

He shook his head. "Tonks…"

She smiled almost desperately as she stepped back out of his arms, eyes abruptly glistening. "You'd better survive the night, Remus Lupin," she exclaimed shakily. "Because if you don't, I'm going to _kill _you."

He actually managed to laugh. "I'll bear that in mind."

He could tell that she was battling tears, her emotional sturdiness rocked by the outpouring of passion they had shared. "I'll be just up there," she said, gesturing to the lift shaft. "I'm not going to leave you."

He acknowledged this defeat wearily. "It's probably too late to get out now anyway," he admitted with a sigh. "But be careful. If you die, I won't be very forgiving either."

Tonks managed a watery chuckle. "Imagine if we _both_ die. The repercussions will be…"

"Professor Lupin! Tonks! Up here!"

Remus felt his stomach plummet. _Oh Gods no! He should have gone, why hasn't he gone?_

By the look on Tonks' face, her reaction was much the same as his. "_Harry!"_ she roared furiously, rushing into the lift shaft and barely managing to keep her balance as she waded onto the spongy surface she had left there. "What the _bloody hell_ are you…"

"I've got Wolfsbane!" Remus felt his eyes widen even as Tonks gasped in shock – it took him a mere moment to stagger to her side and gaze up at the dark, dishevelled head that gazed down at them from the storey above with an expression of outright triumph. "The bottle that Death Eater had – that's what it was!"

Much as he was tempted to wax lyrical on that particular statement, Remus knew that there were more pressing matters to hand. "Are you _sure_ that it's…"

"I know the smell!" Harry's voice was distinctly impatient. "And the bottle's just like Zelia described. I saw it when I was sealing them that room in and _Accio_'ed it! Now come on!" Abruptly a rope slapped down against the side of the shaft. "We don't have much time!"

That was indisputable but if Harry was wrong, if it wasn't Wolfsbane and he transformed in the corridor…

"Drop it down!" Remus roared. "Drop it down to me!"

"But…"

"_Do it!_" Tonks' commanding shout of affirmation nearly shook the walls. Harry's shadowed, distant features looked unconvinced – but thankfully, the teenager nonetheless extended the bottle out over the void and on a three count, let it go.

Remus caught it easily. He turned it over in his hand, staring in near disbelief, a small black bottle engraved with a wolf's head, different only to the shattered remains in the room behind in that it was actually whole. Grabbing the stopper he yanked it free and took a hefty sniff.

He almost choked. The aroma was unmistakably foul. _Wolfsbane!_

Never in his life had he been so pleased to smell a stench quite so disgusting.

"Is it?" he heard Tonks whisper. And he smiled.

"Yes," he simply replied. And then steeling himself admirably, he lifted the bottle and downed the contents in one.

And the change was almost instantaneous.

With a howl that echoed throughout the silence of his mind, the wolf retreated, whining and whimpering back into the deepest corner where it could do no harm. The instincts that had plagued him, the desire to hunt, to kill, to fight, to bite all evaporated into nothingness as the part of him that was Remus finally secured the purchase it needed to dominate once more. The wild urges of the werewolf were closed away once more behind the humanity of the man.

His mind felt so clean, so fresh, so gloriously _him_. His body however, ripped of the energy and strength of the wolfish mind, was rather less than perfect.

The last of his strength melted into nothingness like burned off mist.

He almost collapsed. Only Tonks quick reflexes kept him upright as shudders raced through his thin frame, shakes and chills that rattled his bones and set his veins ablaze. He felt weak, sick, bone-weary, the sleeplessness of the last two days combining with his own stressed exhaustion and sudden lack of adrenalin to render him all but broken. He was vaguely aware of Tonks' voice shouting in his ears, of a sudden lightness that lifted him, drifting and weightless upwards to where a green eyed face hauled onto the ground once more and stared at him in horror. He heard mutterings – _was it poison, was I wrong?_ – and Tonks' vague reply about exhaustion and then suddenly a voice cried "_mobilicorpus!_" and he was floating light once more, shoved by two pairs of hands at speed down passed flashes of grey walls.

The shuddering was intensifying. The change was close, _so close_…

And then suddenly there was an opening, a trapdoor beneath a chair. He heard more muttering, more spells, his hands clamped and magically bound around a pole that had been a runged ladder just moments before and then he was falling, rushing downwards, the air searing passed him as it whistled in his ears. And then came softness, familiar softness like a cushion or a sponge and he heard from somewhere shouts that were both immediate and infinitely far – _"It's Professor Lupin! Ron, quick! We have to help him!"_ – and another voice – _"No! It's too late, come back!" -_and then two new faces gazed down upon him, red hair and freckles and brown bushiness and anxious eyes that he seemed to know so well from a life that seemed a thousand years away. But they barely registered beneath the weight off one single realisation.

_The moon. The moon has come_.

And then came the pain.

He could feel his bones contorting, his skin stretching fit to burst as agony blossomed throughout his body. He fought not to scream out loud as hands grasped him, lifting him, dragging him, anxious voices all around him as their names swam through his head – _Tonks, Harry, Hermione, Ron, you shouldn't be here, you should go_... He caught a glimpse of a dark opening in which a grey robed woman – _Rebekah, my cousin_ - stood, beckoning desperately as sirens began to blare, but it was too far away, too late for him to reach. He longed to scream at those around him, scream at them to go, to run, to leave him and save themselves, but his voice was gone, lost to a canine howl that could not convey his warning. He caught only a brief, momentary glimpse of a metal door slamming emphatically down and blocking his cousin from view before the pain of his transformation grasped him once more. He vividly caught one last sight of the four remaining faces, pale and horrified as they stared down at him before agony burst through him for the final time and swept all awareness away.

**A/N**: Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: pstibbons, phoenixtear19, Rel Fexive, NaturallyInsane, Camilinha, Nienna Telrunya, Godricgal, Bardlover, Mandalen, Howling-wolf, Snowfall, Mollycoddles, wizardelfgirl, krumfan, thee-unknown-factor, TheJazz, hesterlester, Kailin, Potter's Muse, silvanelf, Pickledishkiller, JamieGlasgow4, Tarfiniel, Gyllenaly, Gilpin, purebristles, MeriTrells, Paloma, anonymous, aurelie1, felixgirl, morgan, sylthian, Libeku Taganashi, EO and WMG! Thank you all muchly. :)

More specific responses can be found on my livejournal. The link is onmy profile. :)


	39. Braced

**A/N** This was mentioned in several reviews so I thought I'd clear it up en masse – Rebekah is NOT inside the Institute. She was standing on the other side of the door when it slammed down and is now in the tunnel with the others. I rewrote that part about three times to try and make it clearer but I guess I didn't manage it! Whoops! ;)

_**39: Braced**_

Kingsley Shacklebolt sighed deeply to himself as he pulled his cloak more tightly about him and gazed out wearily into the twilight.

It was not a pleasant evening.

For one, the wind was bitter. It hissed spitefully down, racing off the moors to shake the trees at the edge of the valley where the Muggle railway line ran and chill the bones of the two men who stood there, waiting, in its path. And then of course, the sun had gone, leaving only the last traces of its warming light, an orangey pink glow that tinted the Western horizon and taunted with a last hint of vanished daylight. But they did not see the remains of the day that lingered at their backs for their eyes were fixed before them, captured by the sight that none of them had wished to see.

Slow and round and gleaming silver, the full moon was rising over the moors, casting the hulking silhouette of Feral Institute into a grim and sharp-edged relief. The outlines of robed figures on broomstick-back circled it like flies around a carcass.

And there was no doubting their purpose.

_Death Eaters_.

There were perhaps twelve Order members gathered down at the little Muggle railway platform waiting for instructions. The Death Eaters – and this was only those that they could _see_ – already had them outnumbered.

They had tried to rouse the Aurors to deal with the threat against the werewolf facility. But no one had been willing to listen. Not until morning.

Not until it was far too late.

If it wasn't too late already.

Eventually, Kingsley broke into the quietude, driving to the heart of the matter with a single fervent word.

"Damn," he said.

"You said it, laddie." Grizzled and scarred, the crags of his faces cast in chasms of silver and shade by the brightness of the rising moon, Alastor Moody swivelled his electric blue eye round to fix upon the tall Auror at his side. "I was hoping we'd be in and out before that great round bugger made its appearance."

Kingsley silently shook his head as the wind skimmed once more across his bald crown. "She was right," he murmured almost absently. "Tonks was _right_. She said it was a diversion, she said Bellatrix was a ploy to get us out of the way and we were so damned slow off the mark! And now…" His eyes drifted with weary resignation to the blocky building that towered perhaps a mile distant on the chilly moors. "And if that note we've found is right, she's in there all alone facing Merlin knows what…"

"Easy." Moody's single true eye was lost in the cavernous depths of his shadowed eye socket but Kingsley could see the motion of his mad eye as it trailed across the twilight landscape. "She may be a bloody liability around furniture but she's a good lass and a damned good Auror to boot. And if she's hooked up with Lupin, I'd like to see the Death Eater that could take them both."

"Even after moonrise?" Kingsley's lip twisted bitterly. "We should've got here sooner. If Lupin hasn't had his potion…"

Moody shook his head with careful deliberateness. "The only things _what if_ and _should've_ ever got me were a bucket full of regrets and a few extra scars that I wouldn't have had if I'd paid less heed to _then_ and a bit more to _now_. You can stamp over old ground later, laddie. Right now we need to _think_."

Kingsley sighed deeply. "Did Dumbledore say when he was coming?"

Moody growled, a disturbingly animal like sound that almost made Kingsley jump in spite of himself. "When he tracks Potter down, I reckon. He was cursedly alarmed when he got back to Hogwarts and couldn't account for the lad." The older Auror pulled a face. "A double strike at the heart of the Order! Hell's Teeth! I told him to be vigilant…"

Kingsley stared out once more across the silver washed moors. "You still think Potter's disappearance and Lupin's arrest are linked?"

"There's something else to think?"

Kingsley smiled humourlessly. "I think Potter's very good at not being where he's supposed to be. I'm not panicking just yet."

Moody grimaced bad-temperedly. "When You-Know-Who strolls into the Ministry with Potter's head on a spike, I'll remind you that you said that. But all this yammering's beside the point." He gestured irritably towards the hulking Institute and the circling broomsticks that orbited it. "What we need to talk about is how in hell's name we're going to get in there to deal with those Death Eater buggers without coming down with a bad case of _dead_."

Kingsley's eyes drifted along the edges of the moon. "If we try to storm it, they'll have numbers on us. It could get messy. We need to find another way inside."

Moody snorted. "Good luck."

"You can't _see_ any possibilities?" Kingsley gestured vaguely towards his eye socket. "With your…" He tailed off with a vague wave of the hand but Mad-Eye's expression was enough to tell that his meaning was clear.

"Not from here I can't." Moody frowned, casting shadowy furrows across his brow. "If I could get closer, maybe. But that would mean risking the wards and if there aren't a few booby traps out there, I'm a three-legged Crup."

Kingsley sighed once more. "Unfortunately, we might not have any choice. Without inside knowledge…"

"Kingsley! Mad-Eye!"

The hiss came from behind them, torn between being a subtle whisper and a hail and not quite managing either. But it was at least enough to make the two men turn.

Hestia Jones was crouched, muddy and dishevelled, at the bottom of the bank on which they lurked. She looked out of breath.

Moody's reprimand was sharp. "I _told_ you and the others to _wait down there_."

Hestia pulled a slight face but did not rise to the scolding. "I know, but something's come up. _Literally_." At Moody's irritable expression, she opted to get to the point. "Bill was scouting over the other side of the railway tracks and he happened across a gang of people climbing out of a hole in the ground. It turns out that they're the _Institute staff_. They used an escape tunnel to get out of the building before moonrise." She allowed a brief moment for this revelation to sink in, taking a few further breaths as she rested her hands on her hips. "There's a woman down there called Felisha Hathaway who says she's got some news for us about Lupin and what's going on inside. So would you like to speak to her?" she added, slightly tartly. "Or shall I go back and wait by the platform like you told me?"

Kingsley and Moody exchanged a long look. But neither chose to respond to the sarcasm. Their minds were otherwise engaged.

_Felisha_. The meeting in Dumbledore's office and the letter from Remus' Institute contact flashed into Kingsley's mind.

And a tunnel…

He glanced up at the moon, at the Death Eaters the circled beneath its silver glow.

_Maybe it isn't too late. Could we still pull this out of the fire?_

He caught Moody's dark, living eye. It reflected his thoughts like a mirror.

A moment later, both men were moving rapidly, rushing passed their breathless and irritable messenger as they hurried down into the valley without a backward glance. After a moment's heavy gasping, Hestia rolled her eyes silently and trailed quickly in pursuit.

It was going to be a long night.

----------------------------------------------------------

_Bloody hell. What a mess_.

Nymphadora Tonks was an old hand at handling disasters. From the youthful simplicity of hiding the remains of Mummy's best and now sadly departed vase through to the stark despair of that night in the Department of Mysteries, Tonks had always done her very best to face whatever the world chose to throw at her with a sturdy determination and firm resolve. But when the weapon of assault the world decided to smack her with was being magically sealed inside a building full of Death Eaters and snarling beasts with three teenagers and an unconscious werewolf… Well. It was tempting to wonder if she shouldn't just hold up her hands to the world and call pax.

With a weary sigh, she laid her head back with a clunk against the solid metal of the Lockdown door, her fingers resting absently along the borrowed sabre that now sat, full-sized once more, within her lap. Oh, that bloody door! Its closure had separated them from Rebekah and deprived them of their escape by just a few Merlin-cursed yards. If only she and Remus hadn't argued for so long. If only they could have run faster. If only…

_If only, if sodding only. Well, if only didn't happen, so live with it! Honestly, if Moody could hear me now, he'd hex my ears off!_

_Think about something else_…

Her eyes drifted upwards. Ahead, she could see the tense, crouched form of Ron Weasley, red hair dishevelled and face pale beneath his freckles as he lurked at the gap in the wall that lead out into the corridor and the Institute beyond. He sat braced, almost coiled, one shaking hand gripping his wand, the other wrapped around the wooden shutter that rested to one side. He stood ready, just as she'd told him to be, ready should the need arise and Death Eaters appear to yank closed the shutter and conceal the tunnel's entrance, re-establishing Rebekah's currently dormant wand seal. It was not a prospect that Tonks relished for restoring the seal would leave them trapped between wand seal and metal door until moonset and the release of the Lockdown.

But she was not a person built to sit and wait. She wanted to do something. She wanted to act. She wanted to fight off the Death Eaters, she wanted to protect the residents, she wanted to make sure that all Kingsley and Mad-Eye had left to do when they arrived was a bit of mopping up.

But she was one Auror alone with just three kids and a potential snarling beast as back up. It just wasn't realistic. It just wasn't safe. And so waiting was all she could do.

Which was the last few hours had been such bloody _agony_.

And not just for her

Her eyes lingered once more upon Ron. It felt odd, using a young man barely of age as a last line of defence, but what choice did she have? With the others long gone down the tunnel that was so emphatically sealed, there were no other friends to be had inside these walls and Harry, Ron and Hermione had all been anxious, even desperate to do something useful. Harry in particular had been all but chomping at the bit – and so, when after a couple of hours of fruitless waiting, listening to the distant crashes and howls of the imprisoned werewolves overhead, he had grabbed his invisibility cloak and declared that he was going to scout the situation out, Tonks had not stood in his way. She had simply told him to take care and watched him vanish. And then she had assigned Ron to the door and Hermione…

Hermione she had asked to watch Remus. The moment he showed any signs of waking, Hermione was to say.

For to do it herself was almost more than she could bear. In case…

Her hands tightened on the sabre she gripped in her lap. She closed her eyes.

_He said it was Wolfsbane. He sounded so sure. He only collapsed from exhaustion._

_He'll be fine. He'll be fine. He'll be fine._

_But you don't know that_. _Do you?_

For in those chaotic moments as they had raced towards the tunnel, Remus had never given any definite indication that the Wolfsbane had actually _worked_. And she had made him a promise. If it was a choice between his life or another's….

If the werewolf came round and she didn't find Remus Lupin behind his eyes, she would have no option. She would _have _to killhim.

Which was why she couldn't look at him. She couldn't think of him as Remus, she dared not think of him as…

"Tonks." Hermione's soft voice cut nonetheless into her thoughts. "I think he's coming round."

_Dammit. Dammit all to hell…_

"Get back." To judge by Hermione's expression, the brusqueness of the Auror's tone had startled her. But nonetheless, she did as she was asked, retreating carefully until she had joined Ron at the small passageways far end. Tonks caught a brief glimpse of the long, low look they exchanged, the squeeze of hands and then determinedly, she forced herself to rise to her feet and look down.

And there he was. Remus the werewolf.

She knew that it was not a sight that he was keen for her or anyone else to see. Remus Lupin's other side, a lean grey, slightly battered looking werewolf, his body shifting slightly against the makeshift pillow made from the torn remnants of his robes as he stirred back into wakefulness. Her eyes drifted across him, drinking in the heavy scars across the neck and stomach that were his legacy from Kane, visible even through the thick grey fur that coated his lupine form. His muzzle was narrow, his jaws slightly parted to display a hint of sharp white teeth. It was almost unbelievable to realise that just a few hours before, that maw had been the very lips she'd kissed with such passion in the confines of Zelia's lab.

But as long as it was still Remus inside, she didn't really care.

_Be Remus. Just be Remus_. _Please_…

Slowly, carefully, she lowered the sabre, resting the sharpened point across the werewolf's windpipe. One slash of the throat. That was all it would take…

Paws twitched. Eyelids flickered.

And then, still blinking sleepily, two golden eyes quietly opened. And then they fixed upon her.

Tonks braced, her heart pounding, waiting for the snarl, the lurch, the terrible crunch as she did what she had to do. It didn't come. Instead the werewolf simply stared at her.

_Please. Oh please_…

"Remus?" she ventured.

The werewolf's eyes flickered to the blade. And then very tentatively, it nodded.

_He _nodded. _Remus_ nodded.

She had never felt a relief quite like it. It swamped her body, rushing through her veins in a euphoric surge that almost drove her to her knees with its intensity. In that instant, in spite of everything erupting around them, life had simply never felt so glorious.

_Thank you. Whoever's up there watching and arranges these things just…thank you_.

_One peril down. Maybe, just maybe_…

Remus' eyes had drifted to the blade pressed against his neck. His golden eyes offered her a _very _pointed look.

Any remote and cloudy hint of doubt that it was Remus running the show inside that furry body vanished in an instant. Only Remus could look at her quite like _that._

"Right!" Almost instinctively, she snatched the blade away from any point of potential damage, dropping to her knees at his side as he pulled himself shakily onto all fours, shaking the lingering cramps of his earlier transformation out of his joints and bones. She watched him as he stretched his forelimbs uncertainly, apparently accustoming himself to this familiar yet unfamiliar shape but then his eyes caught upon the two teenagers watching him uncertainly from a few yards away and he froze like a statue to the spot.

Tonks sighed inwardly. "Yes, I know," she told him almost sternly, deliberately catching his muzzle between her fingers as she drew his gaze back in her direction once more. "They're still here – all three of them. But there isn't a damn thing either of us can do about that now and I don't think any of us want to watch a werewolf have a paddy. So just swallow down that protective streak and get used to it. We're all in this together whether we like it or not."

Lack of voice or not, for a moment it almost seemed as though he was going to attempt to argue. But then he gave a wolfish huff and dropped his eyes in a weary gesture of submission.

Tonks barely managed to hide her second surge of relief. In spite of exterior appearances, it seemed that the man trapped beneath those golden eyes was far more the Remus she knew than the temperamental man that had battled both with her and within himself beneath the pull of the rising moon. Merlin _bless_ the Wolfsbane potion.

But she had little time to dwell for with a quizzical glance at Ron and Hermione, Remus was already asking another question. Tonks braced herself. More himself or not, facing an irritable werewolf was not entirely out of the question.

"Harry?" she offered with distinct resignation. At his profoundly suspicious nod, she sighed. "Well, Harry's…"

"Right here." All four occupants of the passageway started violently as Harry's voice rippled out of nowhere; a moment later a dark head appeared in mid air just to Ron and Hermione's right. Peeling off the invisibility cloak, the young man directed a half-smile at his now lupine teacher.

"Professor Lupin," he greeted with a slight raise of one eyebrow. "Or I'm assuming it's you since you haven't eaten Tonks."

"If I annoy him enough, he's got plenty of time to change that." Flashing a slight grin at the werewolf, Tonks pulled herself back to her feet. "So Harry, what did you find out there?"

Harry gave a slight shrug. "Actually, it's not too bad. Those Death Eaters I locked in are still stuck fast – they haven't given up on the door yet but I charmed the walls with an Imperturbable charm so even if they try and blast through that they won't be going anywhere. And then I cast a Silencing charm so that no one would hear their shouts for help either." He smiled almost cheerfully as he glanced down at Remus, who was watching the young man with a strangely thoughtful expression. "Hey professor, I don't suppose you could ask Professor Dumbledore whether Flitwick could mark our Charms NEWT on magic in pressure situations because I reckon I'd get an O, no problem! That's the best Imperturbable I've ever done!"

In spite of his impulsiveness, Tonks couldn't help but be a little impressed. "Nicely done, Mr Potter" she complimented sincerely in her best imitation of Flitwick's squeaky voice. "Ten points to Gryffindor." Her tone dropped back to normal as Harry's smile spread. "What about the others?"

The smile vanished as Harry pulled a face. "There are two at the front doors but they look half asleep. I also found the chamber where they're keeping the Dementors." He shuddered slightly. "It's on the ground floor, near the foot of the lift. I didn't want to get too close but I did see that the Death Eater watching their door was all but in a gibbering heap already. I doubt he'll last the night on that job."

"Sounds a good place to avoid." Dementors did _not _rank amongst Tonks' favourite creatures to meet whilst trapped in a building on a dark night. "Did you go upstairs at all?"

Harry nodded slightly, although Tonks did observed a small wince at he caught a glimpse of his werewolf teacher's expression at this news. "I looked in on the werewolves." His expression darkened grimly. "They're all locked up in little cages on the first floor and it's obvious no one's given _them_ their last dose of Wolfsbane – they're just going mad, all thrashing and biting at the bars. And having six tasty humans lurking just out of reach probably isn't helping either." He smiled sourly. "It's a shame we can't get those cages open. The werewolves look dead keen to solve our Death Eater problems for us. Mind you, they'd probably choke on the masks…"

Tonks caught a glimpse of Remus as he gave a painful wince. _Definitely_ time to change the subject.

"So there are six Death Eaters in the transformation chamber. Did you see any more?"

Harry sighed as he shook his head. "Not on that level."

Ron's voice drifted quietly, almost nervously over from near the entrance. "Did you see Wormtail?" he asked softly.

Remus' ears went flat. Harry's eyes glittered darkly.

"No," the young man scowled. "Trust me, you'd have heard if I did. He must be skulking upstairs somewhere."

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "You didn't go any higher than the first floor?"

Harry sighed again, his eyes still burning at the thought of the man who betrayed his parents. "I was going to," he replied slightly irritably. "But then I remembered that werewolf Death Eater is up there somewhere too. And just because he couldn't see me doesn't mean he couldn't have _smelled_ me. So I came back."

Both Remus and Hermione were nodding approvingly at that decision. "That was the right thing to do, Harry," Hermione offered matter-of-factly from near the door. "A werewolf's sense of smell is exceptionally acute. In fact, in _The Dark Creatures Compendium_, Caractacus Pring believed that…"

"Hermione." Rather surprisingly, it was Ron who interrupted her, laying one hand almost tentatively on her shoulder as she glanced back to find him wearing an almost plaintive expression. "Not now, yeah? Unless this Cactus Pring chap wrote a chapter on escaping mad Death Eaters in a sealed building full of werewolves…"

For a moment, it almost seemed that an eruption was inevitable. Hermione's eyes flashed as she drew herself up. "At least I'm trying to help, Ron!" she retorted sharply. "I just thought it might be useful to…" But then her voice trailed away; she swallowed hard and sighed as her eyes swept the room almost apologetically.

"Sorry," she offered quietly. "This isn't the time to fight. And I know I sometimes get carried away…"

"Doesn't matter, Hermione. We're all in this together and who knows what might come in handy." Tonks smiled down at the bushy haired young woman, so eager to help, so eager to impress – she reminded her a little of herself in the early days of Auror training, going out of her way to learn this or that impressive new spell almost to prove to herself and to others that she really did deserve to be there.

But it was probably safe to say that nobody deserved to be at Hogwarts quite as much as Hermione Granger. The girl was a veritable _encyclopaedia_ of magical knowledge.

And how much had she faced? She and Ron and Harry, most of all – together they had battled trolls, basilisks and acromantulas, fought their ways through charms and enchantments by the score, confronted Dementors and Death Eaters and lived to tell the tale. They had overcome more dangers in their years at school than most full-grown wizards managed in a lifetime.

Within the silence of her mind, Tonks found herself quietly revising her opinion of her unexpected companions on this mission. They weren't of age just yet, but after all they'd seen and done they could hardly be called _children._

_They would get my back. If I asked them to_.

_But do I want to ask them?_

They could clean up. Ten scattered Death Eaters weren't impossible odds – as long as they were careful, they could guarantee the werewolves' safety and the thwarting of You-Know-Who's plans for a feral army instead of just waiting until morning and hoping for the best from the Order. True, Peter Pettigrew was out there at large and Dolph the werewolf was, as ever, lurking in the wings, but if they could just try…

_If those residents are Kissed and I could have done something – I'd never forgive myself_. _But if I get those three hurt or killed, or if anything happens to Remus_…

I can take care of myself.

She had said those words so many times. Was she to be such a hypocrite as to deny them to others?

She swallowed hard. And then she looked up.

Looked at Harry Potter's green eyes, at Ron's dishevelled red head and Hermione's pale face and finally at the grey wolfish form that currently enclosed the man she loved, his golden eyes meeting hers with both support and understanding.

He knew what she was going to say. And he agreed.

And that was all she needed.

"So," she said softly. "I'm sick of waiting down here. Who'd like to join me in taking this place back?"

They did not need to speak. Their three smiles, expressions tinged with satisfaction, determination and good healthy fear, were answer enough.

Tonks smiled in return, one hand resting almost instinctively against the coarse matted fur of Remus' neck as he also thumped his tail in approval. "Well, then," she added. "What are we waiting for?"

**A/N**: See? Finally, next week, we hit action! ;)

Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: **thee-unknown-factor-incognito, Camilinha, NaturallyInsane, silvanelf, elka78, mimi, Gyllenaly, a happy bibliophile, Paloma, Rel Fexive, phoenixtear19, Godricgal, snowfall, krumfan, anonymous, Mollycoddles, Nienna Telrunya, Howling-wolf, Jump Highly, Pickledishkiller, Bardlover, Kailin, Libeku Taganashi, sylthian, TheJazz, Analia's Broom, felixgirl, morgan, LupinLover99, Mandalen, SsaS **and** Gilpin**! Bless you all! ;)

Reviewer responses can be found on my LJ. The link is on my profile. :)


	40. Caged

**A/N**: Hello folks. :) I probably ought to take a moment to remind you all that I am off on holiday tomorrow until a week on Monday. And what does this mean for Imperius? Umm… -ducks for the safety of the bunker- Alas, it means that because I'm only a couple of chapters ahead of myself and won't have a decent chance to write more until the weekend before the last one would be posted, I'm afraid that there WON'T be a post next week. :( The next chapter after tomorrow will be posted on Friday 21st April. I'm really very sorry but it can't be helped. Aside from anything else, I won't have computer access until I get back...

Now I shall chuck distracting fic into your path and flee quickly to escape the angry hoards with pitchforks...;)

_**40: Caged**_

A nightmare wrought in iron, stone and blood. _His_ nightmare. That was Level One.

Remus could remember hearing of the Feral Institute as a child, a poisoned threat from the lips of a malicious secretary at the Werewolf Registry – "_misbehave, and that's where they'll send you_," she'd whispered viciously, "…_and lock you up in a cage forever like the animal you are_." His mother had pitched a fit when she'd realised what the woman had said but the damage had already been done, the seed firmly planted and lodged within his brain and short of the perils of memory charming, there was nothing that could be done to remove it. A child's imagination was a wonderful tool and bereft of youthful company by his condition, Remus had honed his more than most in order to keep his young mind occupied within near isolation. But now, haunted by those words, his imagination had turned upon him, no longer a companion but a menace that had conjured not the safe play of childish games but dark rooms filled with bars and chains and blood, hard-eyed men with whips and wands and row upon row of cages into which he was hurled and left to rot, stripped of family and freedom forever.

It had been _weeks _before he had slept through the night.

It had been thirty years since those long, terrified nights. But all that childhood horror seemed to flood back into Remus' wolfish body as he stared in at his nightmares made flesh.

It stank of blood. The room, long and dark and narrow, was an oversized corridor that slunk away in both directions to vanish back around shadowy corners perhaps twenty yards away. But this was no simple passage, a fact made clear by the pedestals of stone neatly spaced at three-yard intervals and each crowned by a constricting cage made stable by a web of chains linked into the walls and floor. And though it was lit only dimly, that faint light was enough to illuminate the splatters of reddish brown, both faded and alarmingly fresh that tinged the walls and stone floor slabs. Though a clear effort had at least been made to cleanse the older marks a little, it seemed that some stains simply defied removal.

The old stains must have been pre-Wolfsbane. But the reason for the new was just as clear.

For many of the cages were occupied. And the residents were not at rest.

The air burned with their cries, with snarls and snaps and anguished howling as cage after cage rocked and rolled with the bruising impact of claw against metal, limbs against bars as the untamed werewolves battled with the power of the moon. Perhaps left alone in an isolated room, the doses of Wolfsbane consumed earlier in the week might have helped to calm them. But they were not alone; surrounded by their fellows just out of fighting reach and with the scent of man, of patrolling Death Eaters and new arrivals, raging through the chamber like a wildfire in dry brush, there was no chance for the human mind to even whisper in their fury. Blood and fur splattered and sprayed as teeth and claws ripped into the bars, into the chains and into their own fragile flesh in a desperate bid to expel the darkened rage within. If their cages had been larger, if they had had something, anything but the unbreakable bars and themselves upon which to vent their urges…

But they didn't.

The werewolves of the Institute were quite literally tearing themselves to pieces.

And, short of praying that by some miracle all would somehow survive the night, there was absolutely _nothing_ he could do about it.

He felt a far more human rage rising within his lupine body. Dolph was going to pay for this. And pay dearly…

A gentle hand touched the nape of his neck, soft breath whispering words against his ear as fingers stroked soothing circles in his fur. "You're growling." Tonks' voice was all but inaudible against the backdrop of howling and clanking as she crouched beside him, shrouded in the shadows and her disillusionment charm as they waited together behind a fortuitously empty cage just inside the doorway of the grim room. To his sensitive nose, her skin was reeking of a potent combination of fear, anger and determination. "I know how you feel but…"

"They'll be coming soon." Harry's tense whisper rippled out of the empty air to their right, silencing Tonks instantly – the Auror released her touch against his neck as she dropped into a poised crouch, her wand gripped firmly between her fingers of her right hand and Remus' grasped in her left, her movements sensed rather than seen against the ripple of shadows as she waited to cast the spells that would make or break their plans. Harry had been keen to try his hand but Tonks had firmly overruled him – where non-verbal combat magic was concerned, hers was the hand of experience and they could not afford mistakes.

It had seemed a simple enough plan, made in a quiet corner of the stairwell just a few minutes before. According to Harry's scouting, the six Death Eaters assigned to watch over the werewolves were patrolling the long dormitory-like square of the transformation chamber in twos at intervals of between five and ten minutes. All were clearly uncomfortable with their duty and distinctly on edge around their caged and frantic charges and so getting the drop on them would theoretically not be much of a challenge; provided both Death Eaters in a pair could be taken down silently and instantly. If they succeeded, the plan would be easy and safe. If they failed…

Failure would be _messy_.

Once more, he felt the gentle touch of Tonks' fingers against his fur. Her voice, when it came, was filled with apology.

"I'm sorry, Remus," she whispered. "But it's time."

Remus breathed deeply. _Calm, Remus. Calm. It won't be locked. You won't be trapped. It's just for a minute and you agreed to this_…

They had needed a distraction. That much had been certain. And when Hermione had tentatively suggested this course, Remus had seen the value of it. The Death Eaters feared the werewolves; it was time to highlight that fear. And he was the perfect target for the attention of their enemies. After all, he was the only member of the party immune from being cursed.

Silencing the hinges with a quick wave of her wand, Tonks reached and gently prized the back door of the empty cage open. Bracing himself carefully, Remus poised, leapt and dragged himself quickly inside. He felt rather than heard the door drop shut behind him.

Remus had never been claustrophobic. It wasn't a good time to start.

The bars loomed around him, images from childhood nightmares. They almost seemed to close on down towards him, giant fingers locking him within their grasp...

_It isn't locked. It isn't locked. It isn't locked_…

"Here!" Hermione's hiss made him start – almost instinctively he recoiled as something black and fleshy was shoved through the bars against his nose. "Chew on it. And look threatening!"

The overpowering aroma of strawberry cream and banana wafted against his sensitive muzzle. A sticky looking finger lolled out of the rough cradle of black material.

It was fairly repulsive, really. But at the same time, Remus couldn't escape the sense that making a fake arm out of an engorged piece of Fred and George's Tongue Tangling Thousand Taste Chewing Gum and wrapping it in Ron's ripped up black school robes in order to fool a pair of Death Eaters into thinking he'd eaten one of their friends was somehow very _Marauderish_.

Piercing, infuriated howls began to rise from just around the corner to their left. Chains clinked and battered against their rings.

Something was upsetting the werewolves.

And nothing upset a werewolf more than a human they couldn't reach.

The vague, disillusioned hint of Tonks shrank into the shadows behind his cage. There was no sign of the three teenagers at all.

Better and better.

A dim light appeared against the wall. And against the backdrop of werewolf cries, Remus' keen ears caught the sound of voices.

"…don't know where they've got to." The voice belonged to a woman, nasal and wheezy. "I'm sure Gibbon said the others would be along to help us by now."

The man's voice that replied was equally unpleasant and just slightly on the bitter side. "Maybe it was good sport, Alecto" he replied nastily. "There were an awful lot of them in there. It would probably take even a werewolf a while to chew up that many bodies."

The woman – Alecto apparently - snorted. "I'll bet it was funny though. All of those idiots screaming and crying and trying to climb the walls…"

The man gave a wheezy giggle in response. "For all the good it'll have done them…"

Remus could feel his hackles rising almost instinctively. His muzzle curled around his teeth in a rumbling growl.

He could see them more clearly now, two lumpy-looking figures rounding the corner by the light of the man's outstretched wand, walking not side by side but one behind the other as they fought to keep themselves and their limbs as far away from their snapping, snarling charges as they could. The man came first, the dance of light and shade from his illumination casting his face in a hideous lopsided leer with the woman a few steps behind, her features so similar that they could only be siblings. Remus allowed himself a brief moment to pity their poor parents for producing such a brood.

But only a moment. He had a job to do.

The bars reared around him once more. He fought the panic down.

_It's not locked_…

Distract them. That was what he had to do. Get them standing still, staring at him, squinting as they tried to see just what it was he'd got – that was the plan. Growling and snapping would not do – that would only drive them to move faster. But a moment's hesitation; that was all Tonks would need to pull off a pair of tidy shots that would put an end to these two sickening gigglers and any threat they might pose to the werewolves around him. But he would need to draw their attention somehow – although the two Death Eaters did not seemed to have noticed the additional thrashing in the proximate cages due to the hidden presence of four humans nearby, it did mean he would need to work all the harder to catch their eye.

It was time.

Slightly gingerly, Remus clamped his jaws around the sticky mess of the engorged chewing gum arm and its wrapping of cloth. It tasted of pepper and lime.

He was really going to have to speak with Fred and George about their choices of flavour.

But in the mean time…

_Just a little closer_…

The brother and sister continued to move forwards at a leisurely, if nervous pace, flinching every so often as they passed the growling, snapping jaws of a caged werewolf. The glow from the man's outstretched wand crept closer and closer, a pool of watery light that glided across the stone, touching the chains, the pedestal, the edges of the cage…

_Now._

Growling deep within his throat, Remus jerked uncomfortably to his feet and slammed the sticky and now mango chutney flavoured mess three times against the bars. Torn black cloth fluttered down towards the floor.

The Death Eaters paused. They stared. They exchanged a look.

But they had paused too soon. A caged werewolf shielded them from what he knew to be Tonks' line of sight.

_Damn!_

Maintaining his low and threatening rumble, Remus eyeballed the two Death Eaters as menacingly as he could manage. Bending over his pretend meal, he began a slow and deliberate chew.

Chilli and raspberry. Oh, Fred and George were going to suffer…

_Come closer, come closer_…

Tonks could shift her position of course. But moving under disillusionment was always risky and a moving Tonks always raised the possibility of a stumbling Tonks and that would _not_ be good.

"Amycus." Alecto's wheezy voice betrayed a distinct uncertainty. "Is it my imagination or does that werewolf…_have_ something?"

_Observant lady. Now come and take a better look…_

Glancing back at his sister rather nervously, Amycus took a careful step forward. "I think you're right," he muttered, his nasal voice filled with apprehension. "And it looks like…" He swallowed, taking another tentative step forward, his sister crowding at his shoulder, his glowing wand extended as far before him as his stumpy arms would allow. Remus mashed the gum arm slowly within his jaws.

Lemon and mint? Oh, sweet Merlin…

His glare at the siblings was no longer quite so feigned. _Just hurry up, will you? Unless you particularly want a werewolf to vomit on your shoes_…

"It looks like…?" Alecto's voice was rising steadily in pitch. "Looks like what?"

"Like…" Amycus' voice choked with revulsion as he took another shuffling step forward, out of the shadow of the thrashing werewolf's cage, his sister mere inches behind him. "Like…"

Nearly, so nearly… He could almost the slow, unseen rise of Tonks' pair of wands. _Just a moment longer_…

Pea and Orange. Coleslaw and Vinegar. Tomato and Blackcurrant…

_Hurry up!_

Amycus' lip was curling. "Like… Like an…"

Alecto's sudden sniff cut him off. "Wait. Do you smell _blackcurrants_?"

Her brother began to sniff too. "I…_Omph!_"

But whether Amycus had smelled it or not was not something his sister was ever destined to know. Red light slammed him squarely in the chest and sent him crumpling, stunned and unconscious, to the ground.

That at least had gone to plan. What went a little less to plan was that Alecto failed to follow.

For in the instant of her fragrant discovery, the lumpy female Death Eater had taken a step back. And Tonks' spell, which a moment before had been trained firmly on her chest, instead skimmed just millimetres past her ear.

And that instant of awareness was enough.

At the top of her voice, Alecto _screamed_.

"_Alarm! Alarm! Alarm!_"

And even over the howl and clatter of the caged werewolves, Alecto's screech echoed and travelled far. And a moment later, it spawned far worse.

A siren began to blare like the whining scream that had launched it, echoing beyond the chamber to carry, Remus had no doubt, throughout the length of the Institute.

A voice triggered emergency alarm. Perfect for alerting the Institute staff to a problem in the werewolf cages. Rather less perfect for five people trying to sneak up on a group of Death Eaters.

_Sod it!_

"_Stupefy!_" This time, Tonks' curse struck true, felling the screeching Alecto in a single shot. But the damage was already done.

Wriggling backwards, Remus was already kicking at the rear of his cage, desperate to get free before the trouble started. He caught a glimpse of Tonks rippling into view beside him, her lips biting off curses as she swore like a champion, dragging the cage back open. He barely had time to shuffle back before he felt her hands clasping his haunches, hauling him out with little dignity but significant speed as he slapped against the ground with a wince, staggering to his feet as she shot him a look filled with unspoken apology. But there was no time to waste with matching words.

"Run!" The Auror's order was sharp as three pale-faced heads appeared in mid air. "Get out of here, go, before we're trapped!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't waste time with dispute, for which Remus could only be grateful. Disentangling from the cloak in favour of haste, the three students turned and fled towards the stairwell at a run.

The smell of old blood, of fresh blood, of sweat and fear and bloody_ chewing gum_ all but overwhelmed him. But distant and indistinct, there came a hint of something more…

_Someone's coming_…

"Come on Remus!" Tonks was already following, beckoning sharply with one wand filled hand. "We have to…"

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

He didn't think. He didn't need to. He simply acted.

His paws slammed heavily into her shoulders, toppling her backwards as she cried out in shock, skidding beneath him along the stone floor until the wall halted them both with a jolt. He felt the spell glance against his fur, felt it burn for an instant but then vanish into nothingness as the natural immunity of his werewolf form shrugged away that most deadly of magic.

_No spell will damage a werewolf. Not even that one_.

For an instant, her wide dark eyes stared into his full moon gold. But then professionalism overwhelmed grateful shock and sharply she pushed his warm, furry body away and wheeled to face her new aggressors.

There were two of them, both men dressed in dark robes and shrouded in the shadows of the passage-like room that stretched away to their right and they were already firing spells that slapped against the walls, biting chunks from solid stone with the force of their impact. And they were not alone – down the corridor where Harry, Ron and Hermione had fled, the sound of spell-fire filled the air.

_The kids!_

But under heavy fire themselves, there was nothing the Auror and the werewolf could do in that moment to help. Scrambling on all fours, Tonks dived behind the empty cage that Remus had utilised a mere minute before, rising to her knees to fire her retaliation through the minimal cover of the bars.

That made four Death Eaters from Level One. But Harry had said _six_…

Behind them, over the deafening scream of the siren, the howls of the werewolves rose in pitch once more. Someone was coming from the other direction.

_Oh Merlin_. _We'll be pinned on three sides. And Tonks is so exposed from there_…

There was no time to explain. There was no time to even try. Wheeling sharply, Remus turned and bolted into the darkness.

He heard her gasp, saw her head turn slightly as he rushed away from her and _dear Gods_, he wished he had a voice and a moment in which to tell her that he had to leave her now, just to keep her safe. _I'll be back, I'm coming back_, he chanted in his mind and he prayed that by some impossible chance she might hear him, that she might understand.

But then there was no more time to think.

There were two Death Eaters, a huge blond burly man and a hard-faced woman with scruffy brown hair and a jutting jaw, both rushing in response to the alarm with wands outstretched before them. But wands were of no concern to Remus. He didn't even slow.

The woman saw him coming first, gasping in horror as she instinctively fired off a stunner that glanced from Remus' werewolf hide as though it was no more than light. The man had half-turned in response to her attack but it was already too late – with the force of his momentum Remus drove into both of them, knocking them from their feet to slam against the floor beneath him. Remus was a good dueller, but physical fighting, notably as a werewolf in control of his own mind, was not something in which he had a great deal of experience. He had no desire to scratch or claw or – God forbid – to _bite _them; his vaguely formed aim was to destroy their wands and preferably leave them unconscious or in a state unable to pose a further threat.

Beyond that, he didn't really have much of a plan.

Which was unfortunate.

The impact had sent the woman's wand flying away into the darkness, but the man's beefy hands had kept his in check. The flash of a spell at close range – _don't these idiots read? Spells don't work on werewolves!_ – caused no damage, but glared in his eyes, a brief distraction that sent him staggering back a few steps. The woman's leg rose, one sharp-heeled shoe driving painfully into his muzzle; he felt the skin of his cheek split to fill his mouth with coppery blood that stung against his tongue. The woman's foot rose a second time as the blond man stumbled to his feet behind her, but this time Remus was ready, rolling under the blow and leaping to drive her back to the ground once more. Behind him, he heard the blond man start to shout a spell.

"_Stup_.."

_Perfect!_

Remus dived aside. Prostrate on the ground, the woman _didn't_.

"…_efy_!"

"_You_…" Whatever shrill criticism had been intended got no further from the woman's lips. She slumped unmoving to the ground.

The man paused in horrified shock. It was not a wise move.

Snarling as viciously as he could manage, Remus wheeled and charged.

He had intended to drive the man back, to frighten and disarm him, perhaps to find some way to knock him out. He would never have intended what happened instead.

Stumbling backwards, the man's foot caught on his unconscious colleague's leg. He staggered heavily and fell.

Against a werewolf's cage.

An angry, frantic, blood-fuelled werewolf that did exactly what came naturally on full moon nights.

Claws hooked into the burly neck, tearing, scratching, pinning fragile flesh against the bars. And then teeth sank deeply into his elbow.

The man's scream was horrifying, filled with a combination of fear, pain and terror that was icily familiar, before it choked off into a horrific gurgle as claws raked into his throat, deeper, deeper, deeper, blood splashing over the bars, trickling down his neck and robes as arm bones crunched hideously beneath the lever of terrible teeth. The golden eyes of his attacker gleamed with desperate pleasure as scarlet blood gushed through its teeth…

_No! No, no, no!_

He had to stop this, he had to save them _both_…

The force of his clawed blow flung the werewolf back from the edge of the cage; for a moment, it clung to the arm of its prey almost desperately but a second clawed slap through the bars tore into its muzzle and forced it to relent, release and drop its blood-soaked Death Eater morsel in a heap against the floor. The bulky werewolf slammed against the bars once more, scrabbling desperately, his crimson stained teeth and claws screeching as they tore frenetically at the bars, frenzied at the prospect of one more taste of tender human flesh. But Remus forced himself to ignore him.

He stared instead at his victim.

Stared at the ripped throat, the mangled elbow, the spreading pool of blood that crept and trickled out to add fresh stains to the old brown remains of what had passed before. The man gurgled horrendously, deep in his blood-filled windpipe, an alarmingly terminal sound as he struggled to breathe through the tattered remains of his neck.

But it was a hopeless cause.

His rasps fell silent. His eyes glazed. His arms slumped.

Dead. _Very_ dead.

Remus briefly closed his eyes. He could not admit to being sorry about one less Death Eater in the world. But the fate of a werewolf that killed, for whatever reason…

His eyes slipped to the blood-splattered piece of paper pinned to the pedestal, naming the human alter ego of its prisoner.

_Thor Wilding_.

He raised his eyes to the slavering werewolf still beating against the bars to reach its now lifeless meat. He had no idea what he'd just done…

But he would. If he was found like this, he would. If he remembered anything, he _would_…

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I never meant for that to happen_…

But then musing was forgotten. A scream broke into his thoughts.

That was _Hermione_…

_Apologise later, Lupin! Now is not the time to beat yourself up_…

He took in the situation at a glance. Harry, Ron and Hermione, driven back by whatever attackers had waylaid them, now crouched against the doorframe near to Tonks as they fired off hurried spells back down the exit corridor. They appeared to be conscious and intact although Hermione was clutching a bleeding arm and Ron's hair had taken on a distinctly singed quality. Beyond them, one of the two Death Eaters who had pinned down Tonks had fallen, a heap of black robes on the ground, but the other was dodging and weaving as the Auror peppered him with every spell that seemed to come to mind, swearing at his every agile jink and misfire. The bars of her covering cage had flared and melted and she had abandoned it altogether in favour of full frontal assault. Even as he watched, a vicious spike of purple light skimmed narrowly passed her ear and slammed a long gash out of the wall behind.

_That's enough of that!_

Remus didn't even bother with the vaguest plan this time. He simply snapped his teeth and charged.

And on this occasion, the sight of snarling, fully grown werewolf bearing down at substantial speed proved to be an ample distraction.

Eyes wide with primal terror, the Death Eater wheeled to face his new opponent. Consequently, the red stunner that slammed into his chest and hurled him to the ground came as a bit of a surprise.

Pulling sharply out of his run, Remus wheeled and trotted quickly back to where Tonks was waiting. She grinned.

"Thanks," she simply said.

"Got him! _Yes!_" Ron's abrupt cry drew instant attention. With a beaming smile, the young man had leapt to his feet. "I got him, did you see?" he exclaimed joyfully. "Did you see that, Harry, Hermione? I got the last one! A stunner, straight in the face!"

Both Harry and Hermione grinned at their friend. "We saw," Hermione simply said, her eyes shining. "It was brilliant."

"_Bloody_ brilliant," Harry reiterated with a chuckle.

Tonks glanced down at Remus for a moment, her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath against the raging blare of the siren and the continuing howls of the residents. Her face was rather pale as she gave a wan smile.

"That's great, Ron," she said hurriedly. "But now we have to get out of here." Her eyes darted to Remus. "Do I take it you took care of the other two?"

The image of the mutilated blond Death Eater flashed across Remus' mind. Fighting down a surge of guilt and bile, he nodded.

"Then what's the problem?" Harry was also a little out of breath, crouching against the floor as his hand rested loosely over his wand. "That's six from here and those two out there are the ones from the door. If there were any more, they would have come by now! We got them all!"

"Except Wormtail." Harry's mouth snapped shut as his jaw tensed at Tonks' reminder – the Auror was already directing her wand at the unconscious bulks of Amycus and Alecto as she bound them up in magical rope. "Not to mention that Dolph the werewolf is knocking around here somewhere and that one watching the Dementors downstairs. And they could still pose a problem. Not to mention these are only stunned. We need to lock them up _before_ they come round. _Accio Death Eater Wands_!"

A cluster of wooden wands flurried out of the darkness, clattering at Tonks' feet. She gathered them quickly. "Now," she directed quickly. "We have to…"

There were more words. But Remus didn't hear them.

For then, he smelt it.

It was faint, distant against the powerful tang of blood, sweat and emotion that curled throughout the werewolf cages, small and hard to distinguish, but he knew that smell, he knew so well that it burned against his nostrils and scratched against his brain, clawing at his memory in search of recognition. He had smelled such an odour many times, he knew, but not as a human and his wolf mind was asleep now, unable to aid him. But surely, somewhere, it had to be there, somewhere he could reach it…

_I know it, I know it, what it is, what it is…_

_I was young when I smelt it. Before I had Wolfsbane. It's something living, something alive, something alive that was around me… It's… it's…_

_Rat. It's RAT!_

Golden eyes snapped down to Harry's casually resting wand hand. They fixed upon beady black within a rodent's face.

His furious bark could have shattered bones. But it was already too late.

Wormtail's sharp little teeth fastened with a snap around Harry Potter's wand. Snatching it up, he turned and fled.

"_My wand!_" Harry scrambled to his feet with a furious cry, green eyes widening with horror. "The wand seal! He's going to free the other Death Eaters!"

But Remus was already moving, hurtling out of the doorway and down the passage in pursuit of the frantically twitching tail of the scrambling rat that fled in desperate terror down the corridor. _Closer, closer, closer, I'll get you, I'll get you, I'll_…

The growl that pierced the air then could have stripped paint. Remus skidded abruptly to a halt.

The wand still gripped firmly in his mouth, Wormtail the rat scuttled forward through the arch of four, long, furry legs. He paused a moment more and then vanished.

Leaving Remus to stare at his rescuer.

_Oh Peter. You always did hide behind bigger friends_…

A large werewolf, its shaggy fur peppered in grey and white, glared balefully at him. Golden eyes gleamed with human intelligence. Slowly, coldly, it growled at him once more.

And Remus knew at once who it was.

_Dolph._

**A/N**: Many thanks to my lovely and hopefully non-violent reviewers this week: **felixgirl, thee-unknown-factor-Incognito, Mee Yah, NaturallyInsane, RubyLinkle, Lady Bracknell, aurelie1, purebristles, Jump Highly, anonymous, Paloma, snowfall, elka78, krumfan, Rel Fexive, Libeku Taganashi, Pickledishkiller, phoenixtear19, morgan, Kailin, Ella J.W, Mandalen, Gyllenaly, Nienna Telrunya, jayoher, Howling-Wolf, Analia's Broom, Lupin123, MamaLisa, Gilpin, The Jazz, Camilinha **and** sylthian**! Please don't belt me regarding the delay on next week…;)

Review responses can be found on my LJ as usual. The link is on my profile. And I'll see you in a fortnight...:)


	41. Buried Deep

**A/N: **I'm back! -waves like a nutter - And I had a lovely, lovely holiday, thank you all very much:) But now I shall get out of the way and let you get on with what you're really here for...;)

_**41: Buried Deep**_

Golden eyes met golden eyes. The air between the two werewolves seemed to burn.

Neither moved.

Carefully, almost absently, Remus assessed his situation. Dolph was not Kane. That much was blatantly clear – he lacked the rangy muscularity that had characterised the older werewolf's full moon form, not to mention the absence of killer gleam behind those golden eyes. But there was more to consider here. Kane had been a feral – a human intellect driven by a werewolf's vicious instincts and desires. But Dolph; yes, he was a Death Eater, yes, he was dangerous, but he was also a werewolf on Wolfsbane, a man in wolf's clothing, as inexperienced and uncertain in command of his lupine form as Remus used to be. Probably more so in fact; almost since he had been bitten, Dolph had lived here at the Institute passing his full moons doped up and restricted by the bars of those cramped cages. To humans, he would have proved a difficulty.

But to Remus?

As a Death Eater, he was clearly a threat. But as a fellow werewolf…

He had no wand here. He had no weapon he was experienced in using. He had no support. He had nothing but a body he barely knew how to control.

What he did have was bravado. And for that Remus saluted him.

But Peter was getting away. It was time to call Dolph's bluff.

And since the simple approaches tended to be the best, Remus drew back his muzzle, snarled through his teeth and charged straight at him.

_Run away, run away, just bloody run away_…

But Dolph didn't move. Remus could almost smell the indecision that surged through him, the war that briefly raged within as his enemy closed him down. Intense hatred battled in his eyes with confusion, fear and a strong urge not to get ripped to shreds by a werewolf that he had no guarantee was controlled by a human mind. For a single, foolish instant, it seemed to Remus that he was bracing for a fight.

_Five yards, four yards, three yards_…

Just run! 

He snapped his teeth. His claws scratched against the floor. And then, deep in his throat and breathing heavily, Remus managed a chilling howl.

A werewolf's howl. The most primal of primal sounds. No human who heard could ever dismiss the shadows of the night with ease.

Especially at close range.

For what many people tended to forget was that inside every werewolf was a person who had been _bitten _by a werewolf. A werewolf was the stuff of its own worst trauma-riddled memories, buried deep but never, ever forgotten.

And Dolph, it seemed, was remembering heavily. Turning tail like a frightened puppy, the other werewolf scrambled backwards and hurled himself clumsily up the stairs.

For a moment, Remus almost hesitated, his own indecision tearing at his mind.

_Peter went down, Peter went down, Peter the traitor, the killer, the liar, went down_…

_But Dolph went up. And he can't bite _you _again…_

_It can't be long until moonset. I just have to keep him busy, to trap him maybe…_

He glanced back briefly, saw Tonks rushing forward with her face intense, the borrowed sabre in one hand and her wand in the other, saw Harry's furious eyes as he grasped Croll's ebony wand between his fingers and charged towards the stairs. Determination and anger flowed from them in waves.

Peter's fate was in good hands.

But Dolph could still be a danger to them. Unless…

And so, with only a moment's pause, Remus turned and bolted in pursuit of Dolph's desperately gyrating tail.

_Harry and Tonks will deal with Wormtail. Now let's see what I can do with you_…

--------------------

"Move, move, _move_!"

Tonks had to hand it to Remus. Who else would have guessed that Dolph was so lacking in werewolf-ish spine?

But now was not the time for gloating. Now was the time to play rat-catcher.

Pied Piper of bloody Hamlin, that's me. Rats fleeing before me and children trailing behind…

Her eyes jerked briefly as Remus, after the briefest of pauses, bolted up the stairs after Dolph. For an instant, a part of her longed to call him back, to tell him not to play the hero, not to be so Merlin-cursed stupid and race off alone. But the solid, practical part of her that had got her through Auror training was telling her quite emphatically that not only was Remus the best of all of them to take on a werewolf Death Eater, he was also more than able to look after himself.

_Trust him. Just trust him._

_And don't let him down either. Stop the bloody rat_!

Run, move, quick! 

Stairs loomed ominously before her. Stairs at speed were not something that Tonks relished, since they had an unpleasant habit of leading to lost footing and long and bruising tumbles to the ground floor. But nevertheless, she plunged forward, the cold hilt of the sabre biting against one hand, the smooth wood of her wand gripped in the other as she scrambled downwards in pursuit of the jiggling little worm-like tail that bounced and flicked perhaps ten or twenty steps in front of her, Harry's wand still clamped between its jaws. Behind her, over the cacophony of the still blaring alarm, she could hear the rapid footsteps and harsh breathing of Harry, Ron and Hermione as they followed her pursuit of the pattering little feet of the Order's greatest traitor down step after step after step.

_Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, don't trip, don't trip, don't trip, don't trip_…

She had to stop this soon. She wouldn't be able to keep her footing much longer…

Gritting her teeth in determination, Tonks flashed her wand in the direction of the fleeing rat and his burden.

"_Accio waaaaaannooooo…_!"

Her treacherous left heel scuffed the step and slipped away. Her right foot took the chance to follow.

Pain ricocheted through her arm as she slammed against the wall with bruising force, right ankle turning painfully as gravity robbed her of her balance and hurled her around and inevitably downwards. Her left hip impacted the steps in a flare of pain, the sabre flying from her grasp to vanish over the banister but at least it freed her left hand to slam down against the step below and save her from worse damage on the rebound. Her elbow twisted with an agonising jolt as she topped and rolled once more, smacking with a jarring thud against the landing just below. The wall halted her tumble with vicious finality.

For a moment, she could do nothing but lie motionless, winded and gasping for breath, slowly but distinctly registering the swelling throb of her arm, the roar of her hip and the scream of her elbow. The blaring siren that continued to ring out all around was nothing to the noise of her bones.

_That. Bloody. Hurt_.

And then came the footsteps, faces rushing over as they stared down at her, filled with horror and shock.

"_Tonks!_"

"Is she…should we…?"

She tried to speak, tried to command them onwards, downwards, but her voice was no more than a winded gasp, her gestures no more than jerking. _Don't wait for me! Go on, go!_

And then blessedly, wonderfully, Hermione's voice snapped across Ron and Harry's indecision. "You go on! I'll see to her! You have to stop Wormtail!"

The mention of that hated name was enough for Harry. With a clatter, he wheeled and rushed away down the stairs once more. A moment later, Ron was dashing in pursuit.

Hermione's bushy haired face filled Tonks' rather blurry vision. Her lips were already muttering spells.

Abruptly, the pain faded to a dull as air found its way back into Tonks' lungs once more. Instantly, she dragged herself to her knees, wincing as her still sore hip gave a mighty throb.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione's hands caught her shoulders, helping her quickly upright. "I only know the basic healing spells…"

"I know more. Lots of experience." A few waves of her wand, some well placed _episkeys _and a few bruise soothing charms magicked away the worst of the pain almost instantly. "Now let's go!"

Hermione's steadying hand rested against Tonks' arm for the rest of the descent. She chose not protest.

There was no need to wonder which way to go when they burst out of the fortuitously unsealed grill at the foot of the stairs, presumably opened by virtue of Croll's wand. Harry's shouts and the whiz of spell-fire were telling enough.

"_Accio wand!_" It was Ron's voice that rang out but Harry who shouted in triumph – as Hermione and Tonks bolted round the corner side by side, they found themselves confronted by Ron, his wand outstretched in a threatening manner and Harry, his own wand now grasped in his hand once more, advancing on the man who betrayed his parents with grim death in his green eyes.

_So that's Pettigrew?_

For a moment, Tonks could only stare, stare curiously, angrily, disgustedly at the sorry form of the man who had caused so much sorrow to Remus, Sirius and Harry of course, through a betrayal of friendship for servitude. Remus' old school friend was backed up against the wall next to a door that glowed with the soft, electric blue glow of a wand seal. He was himself once more, his wasted features sagging, his colourless hair, what was left of it, dishevelled and messy, his pointed, rodent like nose twitching almost frantically. His small watery eyes were filled with a maelstrom of emotions so conflicting as to be utterly unreadable. The hand in which he extended his wand before him gleamed a solid silver in the dull light of the globes.

"N…now Harry…Let's be reasonable…" Pettigrew's stuttering voice was pitched several octaves higher than was apparently natural – Tonks couldn't help but note that it wasn't actually all that different to Cymone's.

"Reasonable?" Harry's retort snapped like a gunshot. "_Reasonable?_ Is it reasonable to lock up all those werewolves and then Kiss away their souls? Is it reasonable to chuck one of your ex-best friends in with them? Is it reasonable to create a werewolf army so as your freak of a master can kill thousands of innocent people? Is _that_ being reasonable?"

Pettigrew's chin was quivering. "Harry….I didn't mean…it wasn't my idea…Please I…"

"_SHUT UP!_" Harry's wand hand was shaking furiously now, his eyes burning like a forest in flames. "Just _shut up!_ Stop _whining_, you pathetic, lying…" He gulped sharply, fighting for breath. "When I think of all you've done, I…" He glared furiously as random sparks crackled around his wand's tip. "Sirius lost his freedom because of you! My parents lost their lives! I lost my family! Professor Lupin lost his friends! Did you ever even care about any of them? Have you ever cared about anything but saving your _own sorry skin_?"

An expression of anguish, brief, rapid but strangely sincere flickered sharply across Pettigrew's features. "I _cared_," he whispered softly, emptily, almost to himself. "But they…"

"Were what, in the way?" Harry's intrusion slashed away whatever words Pettigrew might have intended to speak. "On the wrong side? Not worrying enough about _you_?"

Pettigrew's lips snapped shut. He swallowed hard.

Harry was slowly shaking his head. "You know what?" he said, his voice soft but edged with dagger blades that seemed to cut the air to ribbons as they passed. "I was going to take you in alive. But they'll only send you to Azkaban and without the Dementors, Azkaban is _nothing_. And nothing is _far _too good for _you_."

Harry's grip on his wand tightened. His eyes gleamed.

Pettigrew shrank back, his face filled with terror. Tonks felt her eyes widen. _Oh Merlin!_

"Harry, _no_!" she screamed wildly.

But it was too late.

"_Reducto!_"

There was a deafening boom as light flared through the corridor; Pettigrew vanished, though not in the hail of chunks that Tonks had half expected – instead, she caught a glimpse of the hem of his robes as he dived frantically to the floor. Harry's hurried spell instead smacked against the wall – the wall that Harry himself had reinforced against any kind of destructive spell only a few hours before in order to hold in the Death Eaters.

The spell _bounced._

_Oh, not good!_

"Shit!"

It was pure instinct. Fastening her hands around the back of Hermione's robes, Tonks dropped like a stone, dragging the young woman with her as the flare from Harry's ricocheted spell catapulted past their heads like an arrow.

And then the wall behind them _exploded_.

"_Protego!_" If there was one thing that Tonks couldn't fault, it was Hermione's sense of timing. A curtain of bricks and masonry engulfed them, rebounding and bouncing less than an inch from their skin against the invisible wall of the young woman's rapid Shield Charm. Grey dust surged through the air, choking, cloying as it dragged the world into a haze of fog that consumed every inch of breathable air around them. Stones and fragments rained down all around, pitting the floor with cracks and hollows as the force of their impact dispersed, piling one atop the other as the entire wall, not to mention a good portion of the ceiling above settled into a new home on the ground.

And not just on the ground.

Slowly, the dust settled. The masonry lay still.

Tonks opened her eyes. Hermione's wide eyes stared back.

And then she looked up.

Rubble. Nothing but dusty chunks of rubble slowly settling across their bodies as Hermione's spell flickered away into nothing. They were quite definitely _trapped_.

_Oh that's just great_.

Tonks sighed, deep, weary and resigned. "Is it me," she said quietly, "or has Harry just buried us alive?"

Hermione gave a shaky smile. "It's not you." Her wand arm, pressed against Tonks' shoulder, shifted slightly. "Should I…"

"No magic!" Tonks' interruption was slightly sharper than she had intended. "Not yet. It might still be unstable. We have to be careful to..."

Somewhere overhead rocks tumbled sharply, cutting away the rest of her words. Someone coughed violently.

"Tonks? Hermione? _Hermione?_"

"Ron?" Hermione's voice was shrill. "Ron, over here!"

"Where?" This time it was Harry's voice that answered. "Where are you?"

"Follow the sound of my voice _swearing loudly_!" It had to be said that being buried alive was not something that was inclined to leave Tonks in the best of moods. "Harry, what the _bloody hell_ did you think you were…"

"All right, I'm sorry!" The genuine contrite chagrin in the young man's tone was enough to simmer the Auror down slightly. "I didn't mean… I was just so _angry_!"

"Anger's good. Controlled anger is better." Overhead, Tonks could hear the clink of moving stones as chinks of light began to wind their way down to the entombed pair. "Did you bury Pettigrew as well?"

The chagrin in Harry's voice turned slightly sick. "No. He got away. Went rat and scarpered before half the ceiling came down."

Tonks fought down a hot surge of disappointment. "I'm surprised you didn't chase him."

"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't." A chunk of masonry the size of a doorstop was lifted away to reveal the dust streaked face and half-shattered glasses of the young man in question. He sighed deeply. "Not yet anyway. The corridor's blocked with rubble, Tonks, and the rest of ceiling doesn't look that safe. I would have used magic but after what just happened…" He pulled a face. "I'm really sorry. But until we can break through that debris, we're trapped in here."

Tonks stared at him. _Trapped. Pettigrew's on the loose. Moonset is coming. Remus is on his own with Dolph the Death Eater. And where's the cavalry? Buried under half a building about to dig for freedom._

"Well," she said with deceptive quietness, coughing slightly as the disturbed dust rose once more. "Isn't that just fan-bloody-tastic?"

**A/N**: Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: felixgirl, thee-unknown-factor-Incognito, Gyllenalv, Kailin, anonymous, krumfan, RubyLinkle, Lady Bracknell, TheJazz, Bardlover, Howling-wolf, Rel Fexive, Libeku Taganashi, phoenixtear19, Nienna Telrunya, aurelie1, snowfall, morgan, EllaJ.W, Gilpin, Fmh and Lunair! You are all very nice and patient people…:)

As per usual, reviewer responses can be found on my LJ. Just follow the link from my profile. :)


	42. Man in Wolf's Clothing

**A/N:**As you may have noticed, this chapter is a day and a half late. I would offer up my humblest apologies for this except for the fact that it was in no way, shape or form my fault - as I'm sure anyone who's tried to Log On, post or review here in the last couple of days has noticed, every attempt to do any of these things has been met with This Page Cannot Be Displayed messages. But at least it seems to be back again now (hurrah!) and so on with the fic!

_**42: Man In Wolf's Clothing **_

_Where are you?_

Darkness. It surrounded him, cloaking a half known scene into a mystery of fleeting shadows and glimpses that even his full moon eyes could not make sense of. The blackness of the unlit Residents refectory seemed somehow darker than the usual weight of night, a vast blanket that stole away his sight and left him groping for some kind of clarity.

And somewhere in this darkness waited Dolph.

Remus had been right. His opponent was indeed a man in wolf's clothing. And the man knew how to _think_.

Dolph's strategy, in the end, had proved to be simple. The Death Eaters, it seemed, had anticipated Lockdown – all over the Institute, interior doors had been melted down or jammed wide open to allow the invaders the freedom to move. And although Remus held the greater experience of a wolfish body, it was Dolph who knew the territory and got to choose the battleground.

And he had chosen well. The unlit refectory was a maze of scattered furniture and confusion to one who did not know it, a fact that Remus had learned painfully as he pelted down the corridor in pursuit of the lupine Death Eater. He had topped the stairs and bolted forwards, glancing back briefly when a flash of light caught his eye, but it was only the lift shaft marked out by pale light that drifted from far above, the metal grill that had once covered the drop melted into a hardened, twisted mess. But it mattered not in his hurried pursuit and so he hurtled on, passing the wedged-wide doors as he burst into the refectory and promptly ran head on into a bench. The clatter, needless to say, had been tremendous and by the time Remus, bruised and shaken, had managed to stagger to his feet, all trace of Dolph was gone.

For a moment, Remus could only stand, his sides heaving, his head throbbing as his golden eyes raked the darkness almost desperately. He _couldn't_ lose Dolph, he couldn't _afford_ to lose Dolph, he was just too dangerous an enemy to leave running around at large. But charging into the unknown was foolhardy to the point of suicidal. His aching head had taught that lesson well enough.

"_You need to know the lay of the land, where you're going, what's to come_…" His father's voice, his father's words, familiar wisdom from his childhood. He could almost see his face, hovering against the backdrop of tree limbs and bright blue sky as they walked cautiously together side by side, through the woods near Winter Hollow, tracking a Red Cap that had made good its escape from its cage in the lean-to menagerie the night before. "_There's no point in rushing blindly into danger, Remus - that's the way to lose limbs or get a limp you won't forget in a hurry. Assess the situation and get your bearings. Make sure that you're the one who's ready for anything."_

Reynard Lupin had been the best there was, the greatest exterminator ever to work for the Ministry of Magic. There was nothing he did not know about stalking prey that was worth listening to.

_But I can't see the lay of the land, dad! I can't get my bearings!_

His father's ghostly chuckle whispered in the silence of his mind. _"And one more thing to remember, son. You have more than one sense in your head. Listening, touching, smelling – they can be as important a clue as what you can see." _He remembered vividly the distant look in his father's eyes as he had gazed away at the sky. _"I made that mistake once. I looked when I should have listened, I forgot to consider that some creatures have a better sense of smell than I do, and good men died for it. Never forget that the be all and end all isn't what you can find with plain sight…"_

Within himself, Remus smiled. _I love you, dad._

He allowed himself one final look at the overwhelming weight of darkness that pressed down all around him. And then, he closed his eyes.

The world seemed to slow. He could feel his own breath as it rasped against his lungs, in and out, in and out, accompanied by the drumbeat tap of his heart as it pulsed life-giving blood rhythmically along the length of his arteries and veins, vibrating the skin, tickling the bone until all that he was seemed to lost beneath that simple feeling. He could feel the slow throb of his wounded head as capillaries burst and bruised the skin, the strain of limbs as the pain of hard running coursed through them, the deep bone weariness of two long, hard days and one intense transformation rippling dangerously beside the fuel of his adrenalin. Every inch of this body, familiar and unfamiliar, his own and yet not, seemed for a moment to be everything.

And then, he captured his awareness and thrust it outward, straining his ears into the silence.

And it was not silent at all.

Somewhere distant and unseen, a tap dripped, slowly, steadily, one drop, two drops, three and on and on and on, a beat against the darkness that almost seemed to echo the still audible rhythm of his heart. High above, the low hum of the spells that purified the air matched the gentle rasp of his breathing, both carefully controlled. He placed one foot carefully forward, searching for obstacles and heard his toenails click gently against the floor and knew then that if he waited, if Dolph moved, he would know exactly where to find him.

And then, another voice touched against his mind. _"A werewolf's sense of smell is exceptionally acute. In fact, in The Dark Creatures Compendium, Caractacus Pring believed that…"_

Hermione. Merlin bless her and her library of a mind.

He had been vaguely away of the scent of the room before him, a tumble of conflicting odours that weaved invisible colours through the darkened air. But he had not yet taken a moment to analyse it.

There was no time like the present.

Remus inhaled deeply.

It was like being hit by an explosion. This was a room that, day in and day out, was home to almost forty people and the evidence of their life here surged against his nostrils with almost overwhelming force. Their physical smells, skin and sweat and hair mingled with the residues of their intense emotions; frustration, anger, irritation, tedium and fear boiled against the air. He could smell the remains of their food and drink, a scattered hint of chicken in crumbs beneath the tables, a whiff of orange juice and the stale scent of Wolfsbane, old and distant but so ingrained into the history of the room that it could not be erased completely. There was a hint of fur, of werewolf's scent upon the breeze but with Remus' lack of nasal experience mixed together with such a potent force of odour, it almost impossible to get more specific.

_Well, at least the git's still here_. _But now what?_

For a moment, Remus considered simply standing his ground. After all, his intention was not to hunt Dolph down, it was simply to trap and neutralise him and if there was no other way out of this room then his job was effectively done if he just held at the door. But was there another way out? He was assuming not but he had never seen plans of the Institute – there was no way to be sure. And what would happen at moonset? He would be facing a human – a Death Eater – hidden somewhere in the room and if the change weakened him, Dolph could easily slip passed him and wreak havoc before anything could be done.

From the recesses of memory, he heard laughter, saw a familiar, long-lost face as James Potter leaned back against his bed in their Hogwarts dormitory with Sirius lounging nearby, both leafing through essay papers that were strewn with scribbled Quidditch diagrams. Even as his mind's eye watched, Harry's father snatched up the scrap of paper that his best friend was annotating, screwed it up and casually lobbed it at Sirius' head.

"_That's rubbish, Padfoot!"_ Remus heard him exclaim with a chortle. _"A Beater up front is no threat. There's no point in worrying about the guys you can see because if you can see them, you can dodge them. It's the bludger they hit from behind that'll get you off your broom…"_

Keep threats in plain sight where they can't hurt you. It was good advice.

Even in pitch darkness.

He needed to get close to Dolph, stalk him, keep him in his sights. So now all he had to do was _find_ him.

_Make a move. Come on, make a move so I can hear you…_

And then, there it was.

A soft scrape of toenails clicking against the floor. The smallest squeak and rattle as a chair was pushed slightly aside.

_Got you_.

Left. If memory served, left was where the softer chairs, the games and books all rested in a kind of living area beyond the refectory benches. It was, Remus had to admit, probably the most logical place in the room to hide and wait.

The hum of the cleansing spells rippled against his breathing. His heartbeat drummed with the tap.

_Drip, drip, drip, beat, beat, beat_…

One foot forward, next foot, more feet, slowly, silently, his breathing low and ragged, his eyes burning the darkness as though to blaze it away. One paw touched gently against wood – veering sharply, Remus re-orientated himself as best he could into what he presumed to be the gap between two long tables, creeping forward, slowly, slowly, slowly.

_If I can hear, he can hear, so I have to be quieter, I have to be stealthier, I have to corner him and take him by surprise_…

His pulse seemed to drill against his ears. It took a moment to remember that only he could hear it.

The scent was strengthening. Even over the miasma of the room, he could smell his fellow werewolf more clearly now, smell the fresh sweat from his run and the hints of fear and fury he spilled unknowingly from his skin. Faintly, he could hear breathing.

_Closer, closer, closer_…

He could smell fabric now, cushions he guessed, and the musty scent of books and dusty old cardboard. Dolph's odour strengthened powerfully, the fear in his scent spiking the air like poison.

_Can he sense me? Does he know I'm here? Does he know I'm close?_

Well, it didn't matter. All he had to do was hold him, maybe knock him out or lock him away somehow, just something that would insure he would not threaten anyone else within these walls, would not risk the innocent werewolves below or inflict their shared curse upon the young lives of Harry, Hermione, Ron or Tonks.

_Tonks. Gods, I hope she's okay. I hope she's_…

And then, everything changed.

It was a dull boom, distant and somewhere far below but it was enough to set the walls of the Institute shaking, to shudder across the floor like an earthquake's roll and to shake Remus almost from his footing. He braced sharply, clamping all four feet firmly down upon an insecure floor, toenails scratching the surface as he fought for purchase, for balance as his mind reeled as fast as the motion of the room.

_Tonks! Tonks went down there, what's happened to her, what's…_

_SMACK!_

The impact was sharp and shocking. Remus tasted blood as he slapped against the floor, the force of the clawed blow knocking his feet from under him. He heard a snap of triumph, felt the brush of fur, heard the frantic skitter of feet rush passed as the smell of desperate werewolf all but overwhelmed him.

Dolph! Dolph was making a run for it!

_No! No bloody way!_

Steadying himself against the still shaky floor, Remus staggered to his feet and wheeled, hurling himself in pursuit. He sensed rather than saw the loom of the table ahead, heard the crash as Dolph knocked it aside but he did not falter, did not slow and whether by fate or chance or sheer dumb luck he reached the door unimpeded. The pale, sickly glow light weeping down the lift shaft cast Dolph's fleeing form in silhouette mere yards ahead – gritting his vast array of teeth, Remus doubled his pace as he darted at the other werewolf, snapping and snarling, pushing him away from the freedom of the stairs and onwards instead, towards the glow of oblivion beyond.

_The lift shaft._

It was _perfect_. The drop to the ground from here would be two storeys – possibly not enough to kill a creature as strong and resilient as a werewolf, but certainly enough to render it distinctly unconscious. If could drive Dolph to fall, if he could push him down and knock him out…

He had to do it. He had to stop him. If he could catch him by surprise…

But Dolph had seen the danger too. Inches short, he skidded to a halt.

Just behind him, Remus _didn't._

He could have stopped. He had time to stop, to swerve aside, but his momentum would have vanished, his advantage lost and he needed that force to dislodge his enemy and push him far enough to fall.

Even if he meant he could no longer keep himself from following.

Brief doubts fluttered in his mind in that last second, near hesitation as he stared at Dolph's crouched form, his golden eyes wide with disbelief and horror as he backed up against the edge of the abyss. Was the lift at the bottom shattered into pieces just like the one at Zelia's lab? Would his tumble end not just in bruises and broken bones but also in the piercing of skin and spilling of life's blood as he faded into nothing?

He had no way to know. He could only know that the alternative was danger to innocents and those he loved.

_It'll keep them safe. It'll keep her safe._

_Do it. Just do it_.

He did.

He felt Dolph's furious claws slash into his skin as he barrelled into the other werewolf, heard his howl of fury and then the ground was gone and they were falling, falling, falling, striking the walls and each other with painful force. He heard Dolph's un-wolfish screech, caught glimpses of golden eyes filled with hate, of fur and flailing legs as walls rushed past him fast, too fast and then the ground surged up to meet him with a shocking, shocking blow. He felt bones breaking as he slammed into solid stone, tasted blood as it flooded his mouth and felt the searing heat of damage as it spilled out of his body, jerked free by his landing strike. There were no broken fragments there but that was scant consolation.

The pain was agonising. It ripped through him, swilling across his mind and summoning a different, too familiar kind of blackness. He caught a hazy glimpse of Dolph, lying silent and still beneath him, his fur etched out in blood, his leg at an angle unknown to nature, but he could not move away from him, could not find the energy or strength even to roll away from the other werewolf's prone form. He could only lie, panting desperately as he stared upwards along the dark tunnel of the shaft towards a distant pinprick of faraway light high above.

The darkness surged. Consciousness waned.

_Did it. Dolph unconscious. All safe. I did it. I…_

Footsteps echoed. A light flared.

Remus looked up.

For a moment, his vision was hazy, uncertain, shot with blood, revealing only a glowing wand and the pale outline of a small figure staring down at him from a blur of colour and glow.

_Harry? Tonks?_

He tried to yap. The sound that emerged was more of a gurgle.

And then, just for an instant, his vision cleared.

And relief burst into horror.

Peter Pettigrew stared down at the broken, battered form of his old friend. His eyes were utterly unreadable.

"Hello Remus," he said softly.

Remus tried to rise, to struggle up, to offer some sort of resistance. But even that slight movement sent his body screaming. Pain, bright and bold, ripped through him, his vision fading into lights and colours until he could see nothing but the maelstrom in their wake.

And then the blackness swamped him and he knew no more.

**A/N**: Well at this point I must take a moment to fling much praise in the direction of my beta, Chriss Corkscrew who once again appeared with shovel in hand to dig me out of a big, inspiration-less hole. This chapter gave me _hell_. I started it about three times and everyone was worse than the last because I couldn't find any kind of hook into the chapter to make it worth reading. I have to admit I have never written a chapter before that contains only a single line of dialogue (and that right at the end!) and I couldn't seem to make Remus' thoughts seem logical and interesting enough as he went in search of Dolph. So I dispatched a desperate email to Chriss, requesting any better ideas and she offered two inspired suggestions; concentrate on the senses and have Remus think about advice from the people he cares about. Armed with this, I sat down and wrote the chapter above. So bless you, Chriss…:)

Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: elka78, anonymous, cassie89, aurelie1, eris86, Kailin, felixgirl, MollyCoddles, Lady Bracknell, snowfall, Jazzed Up, Rel Fexive, moo, Angry Mavis, Potter's Muse, Bardlover, krumfan, morgan, Lunair, Howling-wolf, Aroxs, Libeku Taganashi, purebristles, Gilpin, Ella J.W, Gyllenalv, Paloma and Mandelan:) Bless you all. :)

Responses can be found on my livejournal as per usual. Links are in my profile. :)


	43. Dies Irae 1

**A/N:** This chapter is the first of a two parter that will (finally) conclude the events of the longest night ever at the Feral Insititute. Oh and the title, taken from Mozart's Requiem, means "Day of Wrath". ;)

_**43: Dies Irae: Part One**_

_Moonset. _

New sirens blared, tearing the air with their klaxon horns as they heralded the retreat of the moon and the releasing of the Lockdown. For an instant, Tonks froze in her tracks a mere step into the Institute's entrance corridor, jerked up short in shocked surprise by the sudden rush of fresh noise. But then the distant clanking, the freeing of bolts and seals echoed down to her and a slow smile crossed her features as she glanced over her shoulder to where a distinctly dusty Harry, Ron and Hermione lurked just behind, the light of realisation dawning in their eyes.

_We made it. Dear Merlin, we made it to morning!_

It had taken great care and much agonisingly cautious spell work to free Tonks and Hermione from the unstable mass of rubble in which they had been accidentally buried and even longer to form a safe passage out of the crumbled remains of three walls and the ceiling that had descended so abruptly upon them. Tonks had struggled to maintain her composure, chaffing frantically at the delay – Pettigrew was out there, free and on the move and Remus too was all alone, hunting down Dolph without any kind of back up to assist him. If they were to cross paths…

But finally, after what seemed a good couple of eternities, they managed to dig a path, find an escape route and out they had crawled, wands gripped firmly as they battled injury and exhaustion and launched themselves once more on the hunt for roaming rats.

But now the Lockdown was over. Help would be on the way…

As long as the help was for them and not for the Death Eaters.

_No. They'll have found my note by now. And Kingsley's knows that something's up and he's good, he's reliable. He and old Mad Eye won't let us down_…

_I hope. _

_I really hope_.

But for now…

Find Remus.

"Any sign of Wormtail?" Harry's voice was loud, his words distinctly mouthed over the blaring of the siren.

Tonks shook her head. "He doesn't matter now!" she bellowed back. "We have to _find Remus_!"

_Find Remus, find Remus, find Remus_…

The words echoed in the sudden silence as the siren abruptly cut out, leaving Tonks' shout to hang alone in suddenly still air. Outside, beyond the sturdy main doors to her right, she could hear the distant buzz of spell-fire.

_Please let that be our cavalry_…

Harry's expression had darkened. "But Wormtail is…"

"More of a danger to _Remus _right now than to _us_." Tonks slapped the rest of his words away sharply. "That siren means the moon has set and the werewolves have changed back. And that means Remus is out there somewhere, unarmed, naked and exhausted. If Pettigrew finds him before we do…"

Harry's eyes hardened. "If that rat lays so much as a _finger _on Professor Lupin, I'll…"

But sudden noise cut him off. Footsteps echoed, hammering closer and closer, a rampage, a hoard of feet. Voices buzzed, shouting orders, echoing and shuddering into an unintelligible cacophonic mess and shadows danced against the walls as cloaked figures rushed into view…

Tonks and the three teenagers snatched out their wands defensively even as the leading figures did the same.

"_Aurors,_ _freeze!_"

"_Stupef_…"

"_Don't move!_"

"_Impedi_…"

"_Tonks?_"

"_Kingsley_?"

"_Moody?_"

"_Potter?_"

There was a moment of silence. Six sets of eyes blinked.

Then Kingsley Shacklebolt broke into a broad smile, dropping his wand as he strode forwards. "Tonks," he greeted, relief evident in his voice. "You gave us a start there! We saw white faces and we assumed…"

Tonks wiped a rueful finger down the coating of whitish plaster dust that still covered her features. "Small accident involving a ceiling," she replied with a smile of her own, as relief swept through her in a torrent also. "We got a bit buried for a while."

Kingsley chuckled deeply. "You broke a ceiling? Even for you, _that's_ impressive."

With an uneven clump, Mad-Eye Moody had stomped his way over to their side, his electric blue eyeball whizzing madly as it scanned over the suddenly apprehensive faces of Harry, Ron and Hermione. His frown was glacial.

"_Potter!_" he barked sharply. "Hell's teeth, Potter, Dumbledore's been taking Hogwarts apart piece by piece looking for you! And now you turn up _here_?" His whirling eye swung accusingly towards Tonks. "Lass, it's daft enough for _you_ to have stormed in here after Lupin but…"

But Tonks immediately raised her hands in protest. "_Don't_ look at me. They stowed away on my Portkey. I bloody well didn't invite them!" At the flash of hurt that crossed three sets of features at her statement, she clarified herself a little. "But give them their due, they've been a great help…"

"I don't care if they've donned tutus and tap-danced two dozen Death Eaters into submission," Moody growled darkly. "They're still for the mincer when Dumbledore and McGonagall find out…"

Kingsley's deep voice cut the disgruntled tirade off. "Never mind that now, Mad-Eye. Tonks, brief us. What's been going on?" His tone dropped apprehensively. "Did you find Remus?" he added uncertainly.

As briefly as she was able, Tonks sketched in the situation in the Institute. "So we need to find Remus before Pettigrew does," she rounded up briskly. "And Dolph – Adolphus – is out there somewhere too. We were just going to track them down when…"

"Kingsley! _Kingsley!_"

The shrill echoed its way down the corridor. The tousled and slightly muddy face of Hestia Jones appeared abruptly around the heavy wooden door that led into the chamber of the lift shafts. "Kingsley, Mad-Eye, you'd better come down here!" she called, her voice laden with apprehension. "Professor Goldstein's found something."

"Rebekah?" Tonks was already moving, falling in beside her fellow Auror almost instinctively. "Rebekah's here?"

Kingsley nodded. "She led us back down that emergency tunnel. That friend of yours, Felisha, wanted to do it, but we didn't want to bring any more civilians than we could help. It's just Goldstein and a couple of members of Institute security, Falconer and Aylward. They're guiding Bill Weasley's team in a search upstairs. Hestia, what have you found?"

"Blood." Hestia's grim exclamation sent an icy shiver down Tonks' spine. "Quite a lot of it. Come and see for yourselves." The dark haired witch turned and led them quickly over to where the rather dishevelled Rebekah Goldstein was crouched, brow furrowed, at the foot of the lift shaft leading up to the Residents Level. The metal grate that had covered the entrance had been torn from its hinges and discarded nearby.

Rebekah glanced up as Tonks and her companions approached, smiling wanly at the dusty Auror as she arrived. When she spoke, she got straight to the point.

"It's not human," she said softly, rising to her feet, her noise wrinkled and face pale. "That's werewolf blood. Spilled under the full moon."

Tonks went cold. She felt her stomach plummet, felt her heart begin to pound, faster, faster, faster. The others were caged, trapped, locked away. If Rebekah was right, only one of two werewolves could have spilled it…

It was as though she had stepped into winter. The air seemed to turn to a bitter chill; sudden fears washed through her body like a shower of snow – Remus, where was he? Why had he not shown himself? Did the blood belong to him? Images of him tortured her mind; his agonised face as the transformation took him, the pain etched on his features, the horror in his eyes and then fresh imaginings, Remus lying, still transformed, with blood pouring from terrible wounds…

_Stop it! Concentrate! You're no use to Remus if you're getting hysterical_…

At Tonks' side, Hestia Jones' was wearing a sceptical expression. "I'm a Healer at St Mungos," she stated brusquely. "I've seen my share of blood and that just looks like human blood to me. How can you possibly tell it belongs to a werewolf?"

Rebekah pulled a face as she grasped her cloak slightly tighter around her shoulders, suppressing a slight shiver. "The smell," she responded grimly. "The blood of a werewolf at full moon smells very different to that of a human, even a human werewolf. It's rancid, bitter and has a much stronger odour – probably something to do with the curse. I've been comparing the two in labs for years. Trust me. I can _tell_."

"Over here! There's more!" Hermione's voice was an urgent summons – the young woman was crouching beside Ron next to the vast wooden door through which they had just passed.

"Here, on the wood! And the door handle!" she asserted as Rebekah, Tonks and Kingsley hurried over to join her. "And Ron found some specks on the floor."

Rebekah leaned forwards at once. "It is blood," she confirmed darkly. "And…" carefully, she leant forward, sniffing carefully. "Yes. The _same _blood. Werewolf blood." She straightened. "My guess is that somehow a werewolf fell down that lift shaft. And then, whether it survived or not, someone came along and carried it away, brushing this door with it as they passed."

"I think you're right." Kingsley's brow was furrowed, his eyes grim. "I only hope it was Adolphus and not…"

He did not finish the sentence. He did not need to.

Tonks' chill deepened. She shivered.

_Remus, where are you? Why haven't you found me yet?_

_Remus unconscious. Remus being dragged away by an enemy, tortured, murdered…_

_Stop!_

"Shacklebolt. Tonks." Moody's low summons was a welcome distraction. As Tonks turned, she saw the old Auror's glowing eye was drilling almost visibly into a nearby wall. Harry was standing, tight-lipped at his side. "I think I've found something."

_Please let be Remus, please let it be Remus_…

Moody's dark real eye swung to meet his fellow Order members as they came to his side once more. "Notice how chilly it feels?" he growled grimly. "And how easy it is to think the worst? Well, Potter just told me the reason why. There's a room full of Dementors just through this wall."

_Of course_. Tonks closed her eyes. Bloody Dementors, she had almost forgotten…

"How many?" Hermione's voice was low.

"Hard to say." Moody's tone was clinical but his fingers were twitching and flexing uncomfortably. "Maybe a dozen or so. With a pack of Dementors, it's hard to tell where one ends and the next begins."

Kingsley's grip on his wand tightened instinctively. "I'll call the Ministry, get a containment team down here at…"

"Jones, you do that. Go back to the tunnel and send Elphias Doge. Then come back. We may need a healer. " Hestia looked slightly affronted at Moody's brusque commands but at his swift addition of "Well? Get going!" she turned and headed out of the room in search of help.

Kingsley was looking slightly nonplussed. "If we'll need a healer, why didn't you let me go? Or why not send Harry or…"

"Because I've seen Jones' Patronus. It's pathetic. You couldn't swat a fly with it." Moody, it seemed, was in as fine a humour as the rest of them. "Whereas Potter's Patronus is Order legend." He smiled crookedly. "Beside, I feel the lad has a right to be along."

Tonks stared at the old Auror, an uncomfortable feeling welling in her stomach. "Along _where_? Mad-Eye, when were you planning to start talking sense?"

Moody chose to ignore the latter. "Along to the corridor on the far side of that room," he informed them abruptly. "I can't see properly through Dementors – they make my eye go damnably hazy – but I did see enough to know that Peter Pettigrew is over there, pacing that passage outside their room like a scalded cat." His real eye gleamed darkly. "So? Would you folks care to join me in a spot of rat catching?"

It took somewhat less than half a minute for the three Aurors, three teenagers and the Institute Professor to reach the door to the relevant passageway. Motivation was a powerful tool.

The corridor was icy cold. With a dozen Dementors just a few yards away, it was hard to imagine it would be anything else.

_Remus lying in a pool of his own blood in a Hogsmeade alley, his throat ripped open by Kane… The chill, sick, despairing horror she had felt as she sat in her hospital bed, listening to Remus' wooden account of the death of Sirius… Bellatrix's cruel laughter as she hurled spell after spell at her niece…_

No.

_The kiss… Remus' lips on hers… Remus finally bloody well admitting that he loved her..._

_Happy thoughts. Think. Happy. Thoughts._

At her side, a deathly pale Hermione was clinging to Ron's shaking hand like it was a lifeline. Harry's eyes were wide, his chin jutting almost defiantly against his own flow of terrible memories. Rebekah's lips vibrated as she closed her eyes and dropped her head. Kingsley was breathing heavily as he eyed the heavy door that sealed the entrance to the passageway. Only Moody's craggy face gave away nothing of his distress, although his real eye was deep sunk and shadowed as he carefully wove his wand in the air in front of them, muttering slowly in Latin.

_I hate Dementors. I just hate them._

"That door's been riddled with charms," Moody's low growl broke the icy quiet. "He _really _doesn't want company."

"Is he alone?" Kingsley's voice was clipped and terse.

Moody shook his head. "Two… no, three others. But I think they're all unconscious. Damned Dementors!" He took a moment to swear with passionate fluency. "I can't _see _properly!"

"_Who's there_?"

Tonks froze. At her side, Harry's eyes flared with fury.

There was no mistaking that squeaking tone.

"Who's there?" The demand was repeated, more frantically. "Who is it?"

"We're from the Order, Pettigrew." It was Kingsley who replied, stern and business-like. "It's over, this place is surrounded. Give yourself up now and we won't hurt you."

"On the other hand..." Moody's menacing tone was rather less objective. "If you _don't_ give yourself up, I'll blast my way passed your flimsy charm-work and find out if there really _is_ more than one way to _skin a rat_. And Hell's teeth, lad, I'll _enjoy_ it!"

"You can't come in here!" Pettigrew's voice had jumped a couple of octaves upwards. "Stay away from me!"

Slapping Peter Pettigrew across the chops. Now _there_ was a happy thought…

"That's not up to you!" Tonks stepped forward to join her two colleagues. "Come on, _Cymone_, give it up. There's no way you can…"

"I have _Remus Lupin_!"

It was like a blow, a vicious backlash on the slap she had intended to deliver. Her stomach plunged into a sickening well, the chill of the air surging into her veins until her body was all but frozen. No. No, please, he couldn't…

"I have Remus!" Pettigrew's voice was shrill. "I have him right here next to me! He's my prisoner!" He giggled, a sickening, bitter, wretched little sound. "And if one person sets foot inside this door, _I'll kill him_! Do you hear me?" His tone was irrational, hysterical, rife with utter desperation. "If you take one step beyond this door, Remus Lupin is _dead_!"

**A/N**: Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: RC, silvanelf, Lady Bracknell, Rel Fexive, krumfan, Bardlover, Lupin123, Jazzed Up, Gyllenalv, Kailin, phoenixtear19, moo, Angry Mavis, snowfall, anonymous, Bluer Sky, RubyLinkle, felixgirl, Mollycoddles, Libeku Taganashi, eris86, SilverHowler, aurelie1, Mandalen, Leonew, Gilpin and Lupinlover:) Bless you all. :)

As per usual, responses can be found on my live journal, which is linked on my profile. :)


	44. Dies Irae 2

**A/N:** Well, this is it. The end of the longest night in the Institute and final severe and scary cliffie before the end of the fic in a few chapters time. And in the spirit of such I have reinforced my bunker with six metre thick titanium, stocked up my supplies and my armory and am now going into hiding... Enjoy...;)

_**44: Dies Irae: Part Two**_

_Remus Lupin is dead!_

The words echoed in his head, dancing down from some distant world that felt a million miles away, and somehow they felt true. He remembered a plunge, a smash, blood and pain and hazy visions of an old school friend standing over him, his eyes and expression a mystery.

And then black. Deep black.

But he was not alone there. Faces haunted him, images of past and present washed in stinging cold. Lily's face, white and lifeless, James bloodstained and pale, Sirius' look of surprise as a fluttering veil swallowed him whole and then he was back in the Department of Mysteries and there was Tonks; sweet Merlin _Tonks_, battered, broken, fallen as she lay, limp as a rag doll at the foot of the great flight of risers…

_I'm dead. We're all dead. All dying, all falling, all dead_…

_I'm so cold. So very cold_…

"_Enervate_."

And then there was pain.

It flooded his body, a shocking fiery warmth that stung his flesh and seared his bones. His skin screamed, his blood roared and his head swam and swirled in a surging, boiling rush of dizzying confusion. He felt his eyelids flutter, caught a glimpse of light and shadow, shifting colours but he could not focus, could not think, could not find the energy to rouse himself as differing volumes of pain did battle within him. Vaguely, distantly, he became aware of his body, his human body and for a moment the fact confused him – _was I this way before? There was fur, there were teeth, but they've gone, all gone_ – but the agony in his body and the chill in his mind clamped down once more and conscious thought once again became impossible.

But then, the fire receded. A voice again, the same voice that had brought the fire, now moved to cast it away, muttering spells and incantations over his prone form. He felt the pain lessen, the stings dull, the aches dim as awareness once more began to touch him. Yes, it had been the full moon, he had been wolf but now once more he was human, the moon apparently faded, his transformation passed in the cold darkness of unconsciousness. But he was tired, so tired and terribly weak, his post-change exhaustion undimmed by his lack of awareness of its passing and he could still feel the throb of limbs, the legacy of his fall – yes, he'd fallen! – his tumble and his crash landing with Dolph. And then… And then…

_Peter_.

His eyes snapped open.

Leaning over him, his features hagged and washed out, Peter Pettigrew gave a wan and shaken smile.

"Hello Remus," he said softly. "Welcome back."

"_Peter_." The name emerged as a rasp. Remus tried to rise, to pull himself at least a little from the ground, but his body, damaged by the fall and sapped of all energy by his change from wolf to man, would allow only a painful jerk. As he gasped in sudden pain, he felt Peter's hands, one warm, one metallically cold, grasp his shoulders and then gently he was lifted, propped up in a sitting position with his back against the wall, the dark robe in which he had barely noticed he'd been wrapped, pulled carefully around him. Even as he stared at Peter, half a question written in his narrowed eyes, the other man smiled uncertainly once more and gave the slightest shrug.

"I know the state you get in after a bad change," he offered, his tone a strange combination of geniality and nervousness that sounded almost breathless against the chilly air. His human hand was shaking noticeably, his eyes darting distractedly back and fro between Remus and the wall behind. "It'd be mid morning before you were sitting up on your own again… and then only if Pomfrey wasn't looking."

_Waking in the Shrieking Shack, surrounded by blood, his three friends' pale faces as they stared down at his battered form cloistered in the Hospital Wing, the fear and repulsion barely suppressed within their eyes_…

The cold surged. _No, enough!_

_Dementors._ There were Dementors nearby. The cold, the chilling memories – now it all made sense. Remus felt himself sigh deeply. As if he didn't have enough to worry about…

Shaking his head to clear it, Remus forced his blurry eyes to focus on his surroundings. A thin room – no, a corridor – emerged from the fog around him, its narrow grey walls so indicatively featureless that he was left in no doubt that he was still within the Institute. And he and Peter were not alone there – just to his right, in front of a heavy door, a man in Death Eater robes lay curled in a foetal position, his arms wrapped around his head, his fingers digging so sharply against his scalp that blood trickled through his hair and dripped to the floor beneath him. He rocked, slowly, back and forth, whimpering and sobbing noises just audible from beneath the shroud of robes that covered his face, apparently oblivious to everyone and everything but the horrors within his own mind.

Beyond him, also wrapped in a dark robe, his leg clearly broken, his face bloodstained and deathly pale, lay Dolph. He did not move at all.

_Dolph the werewolf lying broken and bloody beneath him and then whole once more, standing snarling in the corridor… And then it was Hogwarts, and the lupine form of Abraham Kane charged at him with teeth stretched wide…_

Peter had followed his gaze. "I could wake him, you know," he remarked with a jerky sweep of his silver hand that swept away Remus' distraction, his voice maintaining the high-pitched, oddly breathless tone that seemed to race and tumble from his lips almost uncontrollably. "But I like him better quiet." He giggled humourlessly. "Besides," he added, his voice suddenly quieter, his features twitching, his fingers jerking, his eyes rich with shadows. "I kind of wanted to talk to you. Alone."

Remus stared at him. His head was still hazy, gripped with chill shivers, his body a wreck of hurt and exhaustion but his mind, stirring now into a fuller alertness, was whirling with a tumultuous hurricane of thoughts. The moon had set. The Institute was open. Where was Tonks? She had raced after Peter but here was Peter, free and whole – had she fallen somewhere, lifeless and broken, just as he'd always feared? And Harry, Ron, Hermione – where were they? Who held sway in the Institute now – the Order or the Death Eaters? What had became of the Residents? Were they even now being lined up, waiting to be Kissed?

And then, there was Peter.

His old friend. The traitor.

There was little trace left now of the boy he had once known. A hint of pudginess, the odd gesture and expression perhaps – but mostly, what he saw was unfamiliar. Colourless, receding hair, small eyes set within a wasted face – time, betrayal and twelve years in the form of a rat had not been kind to Peter Pettigrew. And not only his body was ravaged; there was a haunting desperation in his darting eyes that sickened Remus to the bone, a hunted, frantic edge touched by the barest hint of a young man who remembered what it was to be a Gryffindor.

That was the part that seemed to stare out at Remus Lupin now.

For a moment, he felt a wrench of pity. _Oh Peter, what have you done to yourself? And why did you do it?_

But done it he had. There was no going back.

_James and Lily's funeral. Sirius' face laughing manically from the front of the Daily Prophet…_

Slowly, he raised his head. "I don't think there's much you can say that I want to hear," he managed hoarsely. "I don't want to talk to you, Peter." He allowed himself a brief, ironic smile. "If I had the strength to move, I would be gone already."

A flicker of emotion flashed across Peter's features, there and then gone before it could be accurately read. "Your other friends are outside," he declared suddenly. "Right outside the door, just there. You'll want to hear _that_, I bet." He gave a hiccup-like laugh. "You'd hear _them _if I hadn't silenced the door." His fingers jerked uncomfortably once more. "I… I had to, really. Old Moody kept saying he'd skin me alive, can you believe that? And that other one, that Tonks girl… she was hardly flattering either…"

_Tonks was alive_. The relief that rushed through him was indescribable, tumbling away the chilling images of her dead form that the cold had sketched within his mind. Tonks was all right. The Order held the Institute. And they were right outside the door…

"I stopped them though." Peter's tone was almost conversational as he settled down unsteadily on his knees at Remus' side, his wand twitching in the silver fingers of his artificial hand. "They went all quiet when I said I'd kill you if they tried to come in." His eyes darted towards the door once more; it seemed to Remus that his former friend was almost afraid to meet his eyes. "But don't worry… I don't think I'll do that, not really. Not unless they _make_ me."

"How reassuring." Remus drawled dryly, but Peter barely seemed to register his words.

"No, no, I won't kill you for that," he continued, his words tripping over each other as they spilled from his tongue. "But if they try to come in, I _will_ let the Dementors out." His head jerked towards the sturdy door by which the Death Eater rocked and sobbed in a pathetic heap; as his gaze returned, Remus realised that his old friend's eyes were haunted by the frosted touch of the same chill cold that plagued his mind. "And I don't want to do that. None of us want me to. So they'll stay out. They _have_ to stay out. They have to…"

His voice trailed away. A shudder seemed to pass through the length of his body as his gaze drifted off into space.

_What must he be seeing? James and Lily lying dead? A street full of massacred Muggles? Or does he see the fall of Voldemort and feel nothing for his former friends?_

_Peter, who are you?_

"Why?" The single word had passed his lips before he was even aware he had spoken out loud. "Why, Peter? Why are you doing this? Why did you betray us all? And why did you help the most evil wizard in existence to rise again?"

Peter's expression seemed to ripple and flex, twisting between wretched torture and an odd kind of weariness. His eyes dropped to the floor.

"You-Know-Who," he whispered softly. "I went back to him… I helped him…because… because…" His features flickered almost sadly. "Well what did I have left to lose? And there was so much to gain, so much..."

Remus fought down a wave of repulsion. "I think you know that's not true. On either count."

For an instant, Peter's eyes seemed to flash with more life that Remus had registered thus far. "Well then, Remus, if you're so clever, you tell me, what _should_ I have done?" he snapped suddenly. "You and Sirius, you…you… you tried to _murder_ me! And if I'd shown myself to anyone else, anyone else at all… it would have been _suicide_! I'd have been killed or sent to Azkaban! You-Know-Who, he was the only person left I could go to! _You _left me no choice!" His voice started to shake once more as his eyes rolled. "I was so sure… so sure he would reward my loyalty…"

"But he didn't." Remus' voice was soft but pointed, cutting the air like a blade. "You're no better off than you ever were. And for that, you've doomed the rest of us."

Peter's chin was quivering, his eyes riddled with a thousand emotions that seemed to do war within him. "I couldn't go to Azkaban." His voice was almost a plea. "I _couldn't_, Remus."

The sheer hypocrisy of this statement was staggering.

"You sent _Sirius_ there without much difficulty." It was all Remus could do to keep his voice from shaking – as it was, his tone was as cold as the Dementors chill. "You betrayed the Order, killed twelve innocent people and you let _him_ take the blame. If you're looking for _sympathy_…"

"He deserved it!" The words lashed out almost instinctively, but somehow they lacked weight, rotting logs hurled in to hold a protective barricade already close to crumbling. "He deserved it, he deserved to go…"

Remus' expression hardened as he fought to straighten his weakened body from its slump against the wall. "Nobody deserves that. Especially not an innocent man." His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Especially not your friend."

Peter's features contorted – his flesh and blood hand clenched so sharply that Remus was surprised he did not tear the skin. His eyes seemed to flicker back and forth, searching for some unseen truth lost just beyond his view. His chin trembled.

"You can't understand." His voice was soft, distant – it almost seemed that he was speaking to someone far away and half forgotten. "How could you? They _liked_ you."

Remus tried to shake his head. "Peter…"

"No, no, no, no…." Peter's voice was shaking now, crumpling beneath the weight of old memories, as he jabbed a finger into the air to emphasise his words. "You know and I know - James and Sirius, _they_ were friends. And then there was you, you were the _challenge_ and they _liked _a challenge, didn't they, Remus? We all knew there was some big secret you had and that made you _interesting_, it made you worth their time… And when they found out you were a _werewolf_…" He gave another humourless little chuckle. "You were exciting, weren't you? You were their _adventure_. Brave Remus who'd suffered so much – they _respected_ you. But me…" His flash of a smile was rapid but profoundly bitter. "I was just the tag-along, that fat little boy they oh-so-very-graciously allowed to hang out with them." His wobbling jaw hardened. "They barely knew I was there. And when they did, they didn't even care enough to _give a damn_."

Although Remus was sure that this had not been the case, there was an uncomfortable ring of plausibility behind Peter's words.._. James laughing as he hung Severus Snape upside down in Fifth Year, Sirius telling his secret to Snape in a fit of pique, both boys laughing as they hexed this or that innocent victim or mocked Peter's often dire efforts in Transfiguration or Charms..._ They had seemed like that sometimes, so arrogant, so full of themselves and superior, but they could be such wonderful friends when they wanted. And though he knew that perhaps he was guilty of editing their friendship in favour of the good, he could clearly see that Peter, in a haze of guilt, had done the same in favour of the bad.

_Does he believe that? Can he believe that?_

But Peter was not finished. "I know you saw it too, Remus, I know you did, you noticed everything! I was nothing to them, less, less than nothing! I was there to be…to be _laughed_ at, to cheer them on… and if they didn't want that, I was someone spare to tease when they were _bored_. They called themselves my friends but they never respected me, not really. It was _stupid Peter_ this or _useless Peter_ that – Sirius, come see what a_ mess _Wormtail's made of his tortoise or James,better stop playing with the snitch before Wormtail _wets himself!_" He took a deep, almost frantic breath as his voice dropped low once more. "And you, Remus… You were the only one who treated me nicely and that was out of _pity_."

Remus tried once more to shake his head. "Peter…"

"See? You don't deny it." Peter did not even give him a chance to speak. "You can't deny it. It's _true_."

"And even if it is." Remus tried to ignore the throb of his arms as he pushed himself a little further up the wall. "Is it any different now?" He flicked his eyes in the direction of Dolph, who now showed faint signs of stirring. "I saw you two together earlier; he treated you with outright _contempt_. You gave Voldemort his body back but yet he gives you nothing in return but ignominy and insults." He lifted his chin, trying to ignore the surge of pain that echoed through his neck and shoulders. "Perhaps James and Sirius were insensitive. But they were just boys and respect or not, in their way they still _loved_ you." He met Peter's eyes with calm fortitude. "But can schoolboy teasing really justify death and imprisonment? Can you tell me that poking a little fun at a friend is a reason to betray them to the most evil wizard alive? Tell me honestly, Peter. What has Voldemort ever done for you apart from sparing your life?"

Peter's eyes flickered to his silver hand. For a moment, there was no response but silence.

"He gave me this." Silver fingers flexed. "I helped him and he made me stronger."

Remus sighed softly. "He maimed you for his own purposes and then tossed you a shiny bone to keep you servile. That's not respect. It's _condescension_."

Peter gave a childish snort. "Because James and Sirius were _never _condescending, oh no, not at all…"

"You know that was different…"

"They didn't respect me." His voice was a harsh whisper, his eyes firmly yanked away. "They drove me to it, drove me to _him_. I had no choice."

"There's _always_ a choice." Remus' voice was sad as he stared at the struggling wreck that he had once called his friend. "It may not be a good choice, but it's always there. You can't cite our time at Hogwarts and blame them for what you chose to do. Everyone knows that children can be cruel, even to those they care about…"

"_You _weren't." Peter's voice continued to shudder and shiver, a verbal reflection of the cold of remembrance biting within. "And… and I appreciated it. That's why I didn't kill you when I found you." He leaned forwards suddenly, his nose twitching, his eyes intense as he stared down at his weakened prisoner. "I… I knew I had to talk to you," he exclaimed, his voice high and jerky once more, his gestures odd and erratic. "There was no chance before in the Shrieking Shack, not with Sirius there, showing off and shouting the odds; he never gave me a chance! But you…" His eyes gleamed desperately. "You, Remus… you used to listen to me. You can still listen. You have listened. And you won't say it, but I think you _understand_."

Something had snapped. That much was clear – in Peter Pettigrew's mind, a decision had been made, probably irrational, possibly foolish but frantically, desperately irrevocable all the same. There was some reason behind his arguments. He _wanted_ something from him…

"No." The denial was firm. "I can never understand what you did."

"You're lying." Peter's breathing was increasing in speed, his words tumbling once more. "You do understand. You can understand. And you can make _them_ understand too."

His silver hand flashed towards the door. And then Remus saw it.

_Dear Gods. He wants me to get him out alive_.

That had to be it. Peter knew he had no escape, just as before, no route that did not lead to death or to Azkaban. Unless, of course, he could find an advocate, someone who could defend his actions, see his punishment reduced…

It seemed he had chosen Remus.

_But how could he ever think that I'd_…

Dementors. The memories. He wasn't rational. That much was clear.

He could have played the game, he supposed, pretended to believe, led Peter mindlessly into a trap. But in spite of all he'd done, this man had been his friend once. Somehow it didn't seem right.

"No, Peter." His words were gentle but firm as steel. "I can't do that. I won't."

"But you can, you see, you will, you must…"

He sounded so desperate, so utterly desolate and yes, he had been right – Remus did pity him. But pity was not nearly enough.

"Peter, stop." His voice was almost kind. "You know I'll never help you. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Peter's eyes glinted in the dull light. "I don't want help." He seemed to expel the words almost absently, gazing off into the shadows as though suddenly unaware of any presence but his own. "I just want someone to see. Someone to understand…" He tried to laugh again but this time failed, descending into a painful hiccupping choke instead. "I'm not a bad person." He spoke now almost to himself. "Not bad, not evil. But it was all so… They didn't really care… I meant nothing… And I was so afraid when the Death Eaters came… James, Lily, Sirius, the Order, all doomed, so doomed, and it would be over so much quicker for everyone… It didn't seem worth my life to protect a lost cause…" His eyes suddenly snapped up to Remus' once more, incomprehensible, almost mad. "You _have_ to see, I just… had no _choice_…"

And then, in a blinding flash, Remus saw the truth.

Peter _knew_. He knew that his betrayal had far outstripped any remote justification gleamed from perceived wrongs at school, he knew that he had ruined the lives of the only people outside of his mother who had ever really cared for him and he knew, oh he knew too well that he had probably doomed the wizarding world to lie beneath Voldemort's ruthless thumb forever. He didn't even care about his own fate anymore.

He simply wanted peace.

But since he could not find a way from within himself to justify what he had done, he needed absolution from without.

From his last remaining friend. From Remus.

"You want me to _forgive _you," he whispered in disbelief.

Peter said nothing. But his eyes contained all the answer Remus needed.

_Oh Merlin_.

"I can't do that," he simply said.

Remus saw Peter's eyes flicker with a hint of pain. Had he thought pity would be enough? Had he thought that kindly Remus might give the condemned man what he needed before he was sentenced to his doom?

_Oh Peter. You don't know me any more than I know you_.

"I'm sorry, Peter." Though his words were soft, they pierced the air like a dagger strike. "Even if I wanted to, I can't absolve you of your guilt. No one can. What you have done, to James, to Lily, to Sirius, to Harry and to the wizarding world, is _unforgivable_. Nothing and no one can wipe that away. And I wouldn't if I could."

It was as though he had delivered a physical blow. Peter lurched back, jerking to his feet as he staggered away from Remus, his wand, still grasped within his silver hand, shaking as he extended it towards his former friend's prone form.

"That's not true!" he shrieked shrilly, his features contorting with a mixture of fury, disappointment and pain. "You can do it! You can forgive me! _Forgive me_!"

Remus met his gaze squarely. "It would be a lie."

"I'll kill you!"

Of that Remus had no doubt but somehow, faced with the choice of betraying his friends memories to soothe the conscience of their de-facto murderer, it didn't seem to matter.

"Go ahead," he said softly. "But it won't help you."

Desperate insanity was rife in his eyes. "This is your last chance. Forgive me."

But Remus only shook his head. "No."

Peter's features twisted. His eyes burned as he increased his grip on his wand.

"Then I'm sorry," he whispered intensely. "You've left me no choice. _Avada_…"

And then the door exploded inwards and all Hell broke loose.

--------------------------

It was as though she had stepped into a nightmare.

Even as Tonks coughed and spluttered, frantically and near-blindly wading through the heavy wall of dust that had risen in the wake of Moody's explosive detonation of the door's protective charms, she heard Kingsley's voice bellowing orders, heard a high pitched furious shriek that she could only assume was Pettigrew, felt the deeper icy chill that slapped against her face from the suddenly freed air. Wand grasped firmly, she stumbled and staggered through the wreckage at Harry's side as they burst into the chaos of the corridor, her eyes hazily registering three slumped figures and the shrunken outline of the rat in human form himself, his wand shaking in a silver hand as he screamed out a frantic spell.

And then, hoarse, raw and desperate, she heard Remus bellow in return.

"Peter, _no_!"

_Remus!_

The world seemed to slip into slow motion. She could see him now, slumped against the wall to the right perhaps ten yards in front of them, wrapped in a ragged Death Eater robe, his pale skin a contrast to the streaks of blood that tainted it, his limbs jerking frantically as he struggled to find the strength to lift himself into action. She could see his eyes, wide with horror as they fixed upon the man in front of him, who stood shuddering with his wand raised and his wasted features maddened.

The spell flashed forwards.

But it did not strike Remus. It hit instead the door by which he lay.

It burst open. And the cold that swamped the corridor was glacial.

Dementors. Pettigrew's freed the Dementors! 

A single, long fingered, slimy hand curled its way around the doorframe. A hooded shape, then two, then three loomed as the last of the lights flickered and died into nothingness.

And then everything flashed to a blur.

_Bellatrix cackling gleefully as she hurled spell after spell at her struggling niece_….

Against the flare of _Lumos _that burst almost instinctively from Ron Weasley's wand, she caught a glimpse of Kingsley staggering backwards, his eyes wide as he thrust his wand out before him, but Harry was the first to react, his face set and determined as he hurled himself to the fore and screamed out "_Expecto Patronum!_" A white stag erupted from his wand tip, galloping forwards furiously – with yet another shriek, Pettigrew almost seemed to melt away, shrinking, sprouting fur and then with a flick of his tail, tiny legs skittered as he fled the antlered, glowing apparition that charged into the chilling hordes.

_Remus' pale face and hollow eyes as he broke the news of her cousin's death at her Hospital bed in St Mungo's_…

The stag had done its work well and a moment later it did not ride alone as first a little otter and then Moody's grizzly bear and Kingsley's snowy leopard leapt into the fray. The Dementor ranks began to falter – some shrank back almost fearfully into the chamber of their confinement, others retreating down the passageway as they rasped their resentment against their own cold air.

_Remus lying in a Hogsmeade alley, unconscious in a pool of his own blood_…

And then, a man's voice screamed in utter terror.

She had not realised that one of the three slumped figures was Dolph. But now it was clear, oh too clear as she saw him lifted, one leg, clearly broken and dangling as the other flailed, his face grasped ruthlessly in the vice-like grip of two vile and slimy hands. His fingers scratched and scrabbled against his captor's grasp in desperate search of release, his eyes wide with horror as the very fate he had intended for his fellow residents was visited instead upon him.

Tonks rapidly raised her wand, struggling to find a happy thought to hurl with sufficient force to drive the soul sucker back. But the Dementor's hood had already been lowered. She was too late.

Dolph's scream descended into a hideous gurgle as the Dementor's foul mouth clamped over his and drank away his soul.

_Death Eaters all around her, a swirling horde in shadows and black; pain, such pain as a cutting spell slashed through her skin and sent her tumbling backwards_…

Dolph dropped like a stone, his body convulsing as the Dementor released him and stepped away. It was alone now, its brethren pushed back into retreat by the power of the Patronus onslaught of her companions but somehow it seemed uncaring, unbowed, regarding Kingsley's approaching leopard with, if such a thing were possible in an eyeless mask of a face, something akin to disdain. Its visionless gaze seemed to sweep across them all, drinking in the determination of Harry, the fear of Ron and Hermione, the fortitude of Mad-Eye and Kingsley and Tonks' own stubborn fury as though to dismiss them all as puny one by one.

Its gaze felt like the burn of arctic ice and raging fire all in one, sending terrible shivers and the urge to fight, to kill, to destroy all as one. And in an instant, Tonks was sure.

_The Feral Dementor. It has to be._

But there was no time to ponder it. For then it settled its eyeless stare on Remus.

_No! Merlin, no!_

He had not moved, though not through lack of trying; he lay slumped on the ground as he gasped with the effort of his exertions, shattered in the wake of his transformation and apparent injury, exhausted, bleeding, unable to move. His eyes met hers with almost plaintive desperation.

He was vulnerable. Too vulnerable.

And far too far away.

He knew it. They both did.

She saw his lips move. They whispered _I love you_. They whispered _I'm sorry_.

And his eyes whispered _goodbye._

Her heart seemed to tear in two. _No! Remus, no! Don't leave me!_

But Remus had not, could not have heard her. And what could he have done if he had?

Hands extended, the Dementor swooped forwards. Grey fingers closed across Remus' face as it plucked him helpless and struggling weakly from the floor. Its mouth gaped wide.

She heard Harry yelling furiously, saw his stag Patronus wheel and charge. She saw Kingsley hurl himself forwards with Mad-Eye at his heels. She heard Ron cry out as Hermione screamed in horror.

But it was too slow. Too late.

They would never make it.

_Remus, his features filled with quiet horror, sitting aboard the Muggle steam train as he told of Kissed Kane and the Imperius curse and what it could mean, an army of feral werewolves under You-Know-Who's control…_

The Imperius Curse. On a werewolf. Suppressing the human, rousing the wolf within…

It would hurt her. Maybe even kill her.

But if it saved his soul, she didn't care.

_Remus. I love you too._

"_Imperio!_"

Far behind her, she heard Rebekah's cry of shock, for she was perhaps the only person who truly knew what the young Auror had just done. Tonks saw her spell fly out, saw it strike, saw Remus gasp against a closing maw and arch his back, his fingers clenched like claws as a terrible jerk wrenched through him. For an instant, as his eyes flashed wide, she caught a glimpse of gold.

But then she saw no more. Awesome, invisible and inescapable, the force of the wolf mind's backlash slammed into her body and flung her away into darkness.

**A/N**: Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week – Lupinlover, Xx Miss Moony xX, thee-unknown-factor, Bluer Sky, Kailin, vefa, felixgirl, Stephthemagicdragon, anonymous, aurelie1, eris86, elka78, RubyLinkle, krumfan, Ella J.W, MollyCoddles, Howling-wolf, Jazzed Up, Lunair, purebristles, Hiss, Lady Bracknell, Gyllenalv, Potter's Muse, snowfall, Rel Fexive, moo, Mandalen, phoenixtear19, Bardlover, Good Morning! (who I assume goes by Polly;)), Libeku Taganashi, Gilpin, Library Kat and Paloma! If I give you all chocolate, will you promise not to hurt me? NO? -flees for her life!-

Review responses can be found on my LJ. Links on my profile. :)


	45. Backlash

**A/N:** This story is now longer in both word count and chapter volume than Oblivious. Eep... In other news, I feel it only fair to issue a warning - this week I have finally reached a point that my dodgy weekend schedule has been threatening to inflict on me for weeks. I've caught myself up...:( But although next week's chapter is not yet complete, I'm hoping it will be after this weekend and I have the week after next off work to hopefully knock the outstanding chapters on the head once and for all. But in case of disaster, I just thought you should be warned. Cross your fingers for me...

_**45: Backlash**_

It wasn't real. It couldn't be.

It was a scene that would stay with Kingsley Shacklebolt for the rest of his life. Those dreadful few minutes, etched vividly upon his memory with startling clarity and tinged with stunned disbelief. He remembered Tonks' bloodless face as she was flung backwards like a rag doll by an invisible blow, clattering limply to the floor in a flurry of limbs to lie motionless, unmoving. He remembered the contorted horror on Remus' features as he crumpled from the Dementor's grasp, his face marked with red stains from the dreadful Kiss he had suffered, his fingers digging into his scalp like claws as he curled, almost instinctively it seemed, into a shuddering, shivering, sobbing ball, oblivious to all around him. He remembered Hermione Granger's scream of horror as her hands clamped across her mouth; he remembered Ron Weasley's look of wide-eyed shock and Harry Potter's disbelieving fury. He remembered the expression of rage on Mad-Eye Moody's face as he roared with impotent anger.

And he remembered the Dementor. It wasn't easy to forget.

For an instant, it was motionless, staring down at its shivering victim with the emotionless detachment that Kingsley had come to expect from its kind. And then, softly, almost unnoticeably, it began to tremble.

But Kingsley noticed when the shaking spread and grew, intensifying as it travelled from the hooded head down through the torso and out, one by one into the limbs, its long robe rippling and dancing with the force of its vibrations, its slimy hands flexing as it scratched and scrabbled almost desperately at the air. It reeled and almost seemed to stagger as it crumpled inwards on itself, clutching its hands against its chest, its terrible mouth keening silently in voiceless agony. With an odd ripple, purple steam began to stream out from its skin.

And then, it simply dissolved.

Its fingers contracted and then suddenly disintegrated into greyish-purple fragments that tumbled away to the floor. Dust erupted in plumes from the folds of its robe as its features, such as they were, contorted, its eyeless face ripping out a silent scream towards the heavens. And then, twisting and folding in on itself, its face flexed, shuddered and then crumbled away into dust.

The empty robe crumpled to the floor. The remains of its former inhabitant stirred softly in the air around it.

For a moment, Kingsley could only stare in bewildered disbelief, his mind, still struggling to comprehend the events of the past few moments, now stretched either further. What in the name of Merlin had just…

"Kingsley! Professor Moody!" Hermione's anxious cry grabbed instant attention. "Tonks won't wake up and she's barely breathing! Help me, please!" Her voice filled with despair. "I don't know what to do!"

Kingsley's head snapped round to where the bushy haired girl was crouched at his fellow Auror's side. In three strides he had reached them.

Images of the Department of Mysteries flashed before his eyes as he stared at Tonks, motionless and unconscious, slumped upon the floor. Dropping to his knees, he tested for a pulse and to his relief, it was there, a faint, weak flutter against his fingertips. Her chest was rising but only barely, her features wan and bloodless. Her eyes remained emphatically closed.

Hermione's voice tuned in over his preoccupation. "…tried _enervate _but she didn't even blink! Professor Lupin told us it was probably lethal to use the Imperius curse on a werewolf and she still…oh!" Her eyes widened with horror. "Professor Lupin! That Dementor, it…"

"_Look out_!"

He heard the terrible, echoing snarl but even as he wheeled around, wand half-raised, he knew it was too slow, too late as clawed fingers slashed towards his face and he stared into the terrible golden eyes of the feral figure lunging towards him…

"_Stupefy!_"

The spell struck his would-be assailant like a physical blow, flinging him backwards to slam with a sickening crash into the wall. He crumpled to the floor and did not rise.

Her wand still extended before her, Rebekah Goldstein stepped hurriedly out of the doorway where she had sheltered since the fight had begun. Her eyes fixed upon the figure she had just stunned with a mixture of pity, satisfaction and revulsion.

For a moment, Kingsley fought to breathe. Where the hell had that….

_No. Oh no. Please don't let it have been_…

Heart leaden, he allowed himself to follow Rebekah's gaze and felt himself release a breath he was barely aware he'd been holding.

Dolph Greymoor, Count Adolphus Mingan-Moritz, Death Eater, werewolf and expert caster of the Imperius Curse lay silent, his clawed fingers splayed out beside him, his golden eyes now closed and his human soul emphatically lost. All that remained now was wolf.

"Keep her comfortable. Call me if she worsens." With what he hoped was a reassuring pat of the shoulder, Kingsley rose hurriedly from Hermione's side and walked over to where the pale and almost unnaturally still form of Rebekah Goldstein was standing, staring blindly. She glanced up at the Auror's approach, her chin still shaking slightly. "I had a feeling that was coming," she stated softly, almost clinically as, with her flick of her wand she bound the feral remains of her tormentor in strong ropes. "From the moment he was Kissed, I knew his human soul was gone and what that meant." She took a deep breath, her lips tightening into a tight line. "I was tempted to use a stronger spell," she added quietly. "Perhaps even an Unforgivable. But somehow I prefer the irony of leaving him to live like this. A fortified cell on Level Six will do for him nicely."

A sudden cold chill darted through Kingsley's heart as his eyes snapped down to where Remus still lay, shivering in a ball on the floor. Mad-Eye, who had apparently just sealed the last of the Dementors back inside their chamber, was crouched beside him, wand hovering in a manner that combined watching over a friend with the guarding of a deadly threat.

The question seemed horrendous. But it had to be asked.

"What about Remus?" he said softly, almost fearfully. "Will he be the same?"

Moody's electric eye rolled, his expression dark and grim. "Just what I was wondering. Do we lock Lupin up or take him to hospital?"

Kingsley felt a ripple of disquiet at Moody's bluntness, but it was undeniably to the point. He turned to Rebekah. "You're the expert. Can you tell whether he's still in there?" he asked sharply.

Rebekah shook her head slightly as she tore herself away from her contemplation of Dolph the feral and dropped hurriedly to her knees at Remus' side. Her eyes intense, she touched her fingertips gently against her shuddering cousin, before reaching down to examine his proliferation of wounds. Immediately her lips tightened as she drew in a sharp breath; muttering a quick sedation spell, she and Moody caught Remus as his body dropped limply and lowered him carefully to the floor. Only then did she respond to Kingsley's question.

"Hard to say," she responded, her tone soft but extremely direct. "Under any other circumstances, I'd say turning feral was inevitable but throw an Imperius curse into the mix and who knows? It depends how well the spell worked, the degree of separation between the wolf mind and the human and even then…" Her eyes rose and met Kingsley's, rich with uncertainty and doubt. "I don't know," she stated frankly. "But whatever's left inside his head, these physical injuries are life threatening. We need to get him to St Mungo's. _Now_."

"And Tonks too." Kingsley's voice was grim as he rose rapidly to his feet. "Alastor, I'll go fetch the others; you have Tonks and Lupin ready to move when I get back. We'll have to carry them past the wards so let's be as quick as we can. We'll send the kids back to Hogwarts as soon as…"

"Wait!" It was Harry, rushing forward with his wand grasped in his hand. "What about Wormtail? He did all this and you're just going to let him get away?"

Kingsley grimaced. In all the shock of the past few moments, he had almost forgotten Peter Pettigrew and his cowardly flight. "I'll brief the teams that stay behind to search for him," he exclaimed, rather more sharply than he had intended. "They can…"

"But we're the closest! He can't have got far, he…"

Kingsley decided to put a quick end to the debate. "Believe me, Harry, it galls me as much as it does you. But Remus and Tonks are critical and getting them help has to be first priority. There isn't time to…"

"I'll stay behind!" A cocktail of desperation, fury and concern swirled over Harry's features. "I'll find him! I can't just run back to school, I have to do something! Professor Lupin and Tonks would want him caught! They'd…"

Helplessness. Such a painful emotion. But satisfying as Harry's solution would be, Dumbledore would have his head if he let the boy run off after a Death Eater alone…

"No." He firmed his resolve as Harry's expression contorted with frustration. "You three stay with Moody. He'll be reporting to Dumbledore and he can take you back to Hogwarts at the same time. I'm sorry, Harry. It's the best I can do."

Harry opened his mouth but Kingsley could spare no more time for his protests. Turning sharply on his heel, he rushed back into the passageway and called out in such of help.

------------------

In contrast to what had passed before, Kingsley found that the next few hours blurred indiscriminately into a fog of vague images. He could just about recall arriving at St Mungo's for it had been then that a horde of figures in lime-coloured robes had descended upon them, sweeping Tonks away rapidly to the Spell Damage wards on fourth floor and Remus to the Creature-Induced Injuries wards of the first. He recalled flashes of the determined faces of Rebekah Goldstein and Hestia Jones as they rushed away with the two casualties, promising news as soon as they had it, and the pale face of Remus' school friend Felisha as she appeared beside him, eyes filled with horror and concern.

And then it seemed he had simply sat beside the Institute researcher with his head in his hands, waiting in stagnant, unmemorable silence for news that never seemed to come.

It wasn't until perhaps three hours later that the world drifted back into focus. It began with the arrival of Bill Weasley.

"Kingsley!" At the sound of his name, the Auror glanced up to find the tall redhead striding towards him, his robes somewhat battered and tainted slightly with what looked disconcertingly like blood. His hair was dishevelled, his features tight and his body language speaking eloquently of exhaustion as he dropped wearily into the empty chair on Kingsley's other side. He sighed deeply.

"I thought you'd want to know," he said, his voice a tired murmur. "The Institute's secured. Once the rest of the Aurors showed up, what resistance was left crumbled pretty quickly. Valerian Gibbon made a bit of a fuss when we finally let him out of that chamber Harry stuffed him and his friends in but he's off to Azkaban as we speak and good riddance to him. As for that werewolf Death Eater, Adolphus…" He shrugged slightly. "Aylward and Falconer took him off our hands. He's been remanded in the custody of the Institute and locked up in a high security cell on the top floor. Best place for him really."

Kingsley wiped a weary hand across his brow. To his left he observed in passing that Felisha had fallen asleep. "Pettigrew?" he inquired, more in hope than expectation.

Inevitably, Bill shook his head. "We're still looking," he remarked with resignation. "But nothing so far."

Kingsley sighed deeply, fighting a flood of regret. They'd been so _close_. Bloody Pettigrew, how did he always manage to sneak away so well? And with such chaos in his wake?

But the Auror was in no mood dwell upon such thoughts. "And the werewolves?"

Bill's face darkened as he touched his bloodstained robes gingerly. "We lost two," he reported tiredly. "According to Falconer, their names were Solomon Baines and Thor Wilding. Baines was a borderline feral by the sound of it; he made no attempt to live like a human and moved with a group who called themselves the Pack. And Wilding…" He pulled a face. "Much as I hate to say it, in his case it looks like death was a blessing. He'd got hold of a Death Eater somehow and ripped him half to shreds before he lost hold and turned on himself. The frustration of being caged after tasting blood seems to have driven him into a frenzy and by the time moonset came, he was too weak to survive the change back to human." He gestured to his robes. "It was _messy_ in there."

Kingsley winced uncomfortably. "And the others?"

"They're all pretty scratched up." Bill's eyes drifted towards the ceiling. "About five of them were serious enough to be transferred here – I've just come from their ward. The rest are being treated on site by the Institute staff and the Aurors." For a moment, the tall young man was silent. But then, tentatively, almost fearfully, he spoke once more.

"Moody told me what happened to Tonks and Remus before he headed off to Hogwarts," he stated quietly. "Has there been any news on how they are yet?"

"Exactly what I would like to know." In spite of himself, Kingsley started sharply at the sudden but quiet intrusion of a very familiar voice; glancing up he found himself staring into the sad blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. The old headmaster's expression was a mask of grim melancholy and sincere concern.

It was with weary regret that Kingsley forced himself to shake his head. "Hestia and Professor Goldstein from the Institute went with the healers," he explained, his voice heavy with tiredness and half-suppressed frustration. "They promised us news when they had it. But we've heard nothing yet."

Dumbledore's eyes flickered behind his half moon spectacles. "I shall make enquires," he declared quietly. "But first – has anyone thought to contact Reynard Lupin or Ted and Andromeda Tonks?"

Kingsley closed his eyes with quiet despair. "I haven't… I should have thought…"

"Understandable." A sweep of Dumbledore's hand brushed Kingsley's words of self-degradation away. "I shall see to it." His wrinkled features tightened. "Though I cannot say it is a task I shall cherish."

Bill sighed as well. "I can't say I'm much looking forward to telling mum about this either. Especially when she finds out what Ron's been up to…"

"Speaking of which…" Dumbledore rubbed one hand thoughtfully against his bearded chin. "If you could direct me towards Harry and his friends, I would be most grateful. I think it's time I took them back to school."

It took a moment for the headmaster's words to sink in. "Wait." Kingsley's eyes widened as yet another cold chill gripped him. "You mean they aren't back at Hogwarts already? Didn't Mad-Eye bring them?"

Apprehension touched Dumbledore's features instantly. "Alastor came to me over an hour ago," he said, his voice rich with sudden concern. "But he told me that Harry, Ron and Hermione had insisted on coming to St Mungo's with you."

Kingsley slowly began to shake his head as the chill spread to his bones like an arctic wind. "They didn't. In fact…" In one swift motion, he came to his feet. "I haven't seen them since leaving the Institute. I told them to go with Moody and…" He dropped his face suddenly into one hand. "I never told Mad-Eye. Sweet Merlin, I was so preoccupied, I _forgot_. And he assumed they would come with me…"

Bill's freckled face had turned white. "But then where…"

Kingsley closed his eyes. "Right before we left, Harry wanted to go after Pettigrew. I told him no. He didn't take it well."

Even as Dumbledore's eyes widened, Bill was already three steps towards the door.

"I'll go straight back to the Institute!" he exclaimed back over his shoulder. "It's flooded with Aurors, someone must have seen them…_oof_!"

"Ow!" Caught by surprise as he rounded the corner, Avin Falconer ricocheted back from his impact with the hurtling Bill to slam against the wall. Only quick reactions kept Bill from tumbling too. The two men stared at each other for an instant.

"Mate, I'm sorry," Bill exclaimed in a rush. "But I've got to run, my brother's…"

"A tall redhead with freckles?" Avin remarked with an almost studied casualness. "Hangs out with a bushy-haired girl and the Boy-Who-Lived?"

Bill's hands grasped the security guard's shoulders instantly. "You've seen them? Where?"

A smile flickered across Avin's face. "As it happens, just behind me. Take a look."

Kingsley followed the young man's gesture and promptly stared.

And then, in spite of the trauma of the hours just past, he burst out into laughter.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood clustered together, their features still dust-stained, their skin streaked with sweat. But Ron and Hermione were tentatively smiling and Harry's expression was one of outright triumph as he lifted the object clasped in his hands for all before to see.

It was a makeshift cage, apparently transfigured in a hurry out of a fragment of iron grating. And caught within its confines, squeaking as it bounced and jerked in twitchy, frantic desperation, was a fat, balding rat with a single silver paw.

Peter Pettigrew, it seemed, had finally been cornered.

**A/N**: I thought it was about time I ended a chapter on a more positive note. Especially since the chapter got too long for me to include news of Remus and Tonks as I'd originally planned...flees

Many thanks to my frazzled but lovely reviewers this week; krumfan, wizardelfgirl, Kailin, Nienna Telrunya, Lupin 123, felixgirl, Xx Miss Moony xX, RubyLinkle, elka78, Bluer Sky, anonymous, thee-unknown-factor, aurelie1, Merryk, phoenixtear19, Tabari Avaren, Libeku Taganashi, Rel Fexive, Snowfall, Ella J.W, Silver Mo0n 19, Drumher, Howling-wolf, sylthian, Gilpin, Pickledishkiller, Gwendolyn Fairfax, Lunair, moo, WMG, Lady Bracknell, Ecstatic-Future-Novelist-Gurl, Oath of Feanor, LupinLover99, Zelotia, Camilinha, ahorsofadifcolor, eris86, Mandalen, morgan, Conn JS1, Gyllenalv, slightly so, Wade Scott, vieras and Good Morning:) Bless you all for your endurance of cliffhangers…;)

Review Responses can be found on my Live Journal - the link is on my profile. :)


	46. State of Mind

_**46: State of Mind**_

Reynard Lupin had never liked hospitals. For him, they bred nothing but discomfort and bad memories.

Flashes of the past danced before his eyes; his sister's agonised face as she screamed her way through a birth gone horribly wrong, the expression on his Healer's face when she explained to him how unlikely it was that he would ever regain full use of his leg, his wife's deathly white face as she lay on a mortuary slab, lost to him forever and…

And Remus. Three years old, caked in dirt and blood as he screamed and fought against the Healers, battling a newfound foe that only he could sense. And again as an adult, torn and battered by Abraham Kane's claws as he fought once again that same old fight from within.

Yes. Reynard Lupin had never liked hospitals.

And yet, here he was again.

_Remus_.

He had not yet been allowed to see his son. He had arrived at the hospital mere instants after Albus Dumbledore had finished speaking, bursting through the Floo so hurriedly it had almost taken the older wizard's half-withdrawn head off. Rey had been terrified, frantic; it had taken much of Dumbledore's power of persuasion to keep him from rushing from room to room in search of Remus. _The healers are with him_, Albus had said, one hand firmly grasping the younger man's arm. _He is in the best possible hands. Please Reynard, this will do no good._ _You must be calm and wait for news_.

Well. That was easy for him to say.

But he had been right. Dumbledore often was.

And so, after a brief, if bewildering explanation of recent events, Rey had allowed himself to be brought here, to this little office of a Healer called Hestia Jones to wait, wait and wait some more for news.

_He'll be fine. He's always fine. Remus is always fine._

_He will. He will. He will._

_Be calm. Don't panic. Wait for news._

Thankfully, seated alone in the quiet room, his early hysteria had faded, the pounding heart, the rampaging mind, the inability to focus upon any thought but _find Remus, find Remus, find Remus_. But the numb, cold, chilling terror that insidiously had replaced it was twenty times as bad.

_He has to be all right. He has to be all right. Remus has to be all right_.

Perhaps five minutes had rushed by, perhaps an hour had dragged, perhaps a near eternity had swept all time away in a chilling rush. But after the passage of an indeterminable wait, the door had creaked open once more to admit Dumbledore and two ashen-faced strangers to the office

Mr and Mrs Tonks. Rey had been unaware until then that Remus had not been the only victim of that terrible night. He responded mechanically to Albus' introductions; he shook hands briefly with Ted Tonks, who offered a wan smile as he raked back his mousy, thinning hair uncomfortably from his face, and nodded to Andromeda Tonks, who met his eyes only briefly as she swiped at her creased and obviously hastily donned robes jerkily with one shaking hand, before switching her attention to her long, dark and rather dishevelled hair. A small handbag clasped in one hand seemed to focus all her attention as she rooted through it with increasing agitation, apparently oblivious to Dumbledore's quiet departure and Rey's presence as she swept past her husband and unceremoniously dumped the contents out on a vacant examination bed nearby. Finally, a comb emerged – sweeping her bits and pieces back with a rush of her hand, Mrs Tonks thrust the comb into her hair and almost violently yanked it down.

"Andromeda…" It was her husband's touch that stilled the painful motion. Easing the comb from his wife's hand, Ted Tonks enfolded her hand within the warm embrace of his palms. Twitching the fingers of her free hand absently against a silver locket hung around her neck, Andromeda's head rested slowly and silently against his. She closed her eyes.

They did not speak to Rey again. But he had no objection to their silence. He understood completely.

Gods, he missed Diana. More than anything else in the world, he wished she could be there beside him, to talk to, to take comfort in, to hold him together as he would do for her. But that was a selfish wish. The pain this would have caused her…

No, Diana was gone. All he had now was Remus.

And he was… he was…

_He'll be fine. Please let him be fine_.

Countless instant eons of time rolled passed. Albus came and went once more, promising that on the next occasion he would return with news, and in his wake he left another pair of unfamiliar faces; a tall, dark-skinned Auror named Kingsley Shacklebolt and a curly haired woman called Felisha, who earnestly assured him that she had been a friend of Remus' from school. They had made some gentle attempts to draw him into conversation but Rey was in no mood to be told how brave his son was and how many lives he had saved. He was too tired and terrified to care.

_His life. Why couldn't he save his own life?_

He knew it was selfish. But this was his _son_.

And so, he settled back into his chair, letting the low hum of Kingsley and Felisha's conversation wash passed him as his thoughts drifted to far away.

How would life have been if none of this had ever happened? If that playful, innocent little three-year-old had been allowed to grow without the pain and stigma of a werewolf's bite? Life would have been easier, he was sure. Certainly it would have been safer. And for an instant, a part of Rey wished with all the power he had that he, his wife and his son could simply go back thirty-four long years and start their lives again.

_He'll be fine. He'll be fine. He'll be…_

"…_really_ think Remus will be fine?"

The words from his head, formed as a question from Kingsley Shacklebolt's lips; almost instinctively Rey's head jerked up, his ears abruptly pricked.

_Fine, fine, why? Tell me why, give me something to hold onto, something to hope for_…

"I'm almost positive." Felisha's voice was surprisingly, gloriously confident; Rey felt his heart contract with agonising hope. "It was Remus' theory, and from what you've just told me, it sounds like he was right. I believe that the Dementor ate the werewolf soul, got a _sugar rush_ and perished from Dark Creature poisoning. From Remus' point of view, that can only be good. It means that he _must_ be the one still in his own body..."

Rey had half-opened his mouth, a dozen questions forming but before the words could touch the air, the creak of the door cut him off. Tall, solemn and tired looking, the imposing figure of Albus Dumbledore stepped into the room.

Rey was half on his feet before he even realised he was rising and Ted Tonks was only a heartbeat behind.

"Albus…"

"Professor Dumbledore…"

The Headmaster of Hogwarts quietly raised his hands. "A moment, if you please. Healer Jones and Professor Goldstein will be with us momentarily and they can explain the situation of your children better than I."

With a sweep of his long robes, Dumbledore moved aside to admit the two women a step behind him. The first, a dark haired woman in lime robes that Rey assumed to be Healer Jones, nodded to him briefly before moving over to greet Mr and Mrs Tonks. And the second… The second he knew very well.

Rebekah's eyes fell at once upon her uncle. She looked strangely _older_ since their last meeting, almost inexplicably so, for although no new wrinkle or grey hairs had touched her, her eyes and the set of her shoulders were heavy and exhausted. But nonetheless, a wan hint of a smile flicked briefly across her features.

"Uncle Reynard." Her voice was soft, edged with a deep and abiding weariness. "I hope you don't mind but when I heard you were coming, I took the liberty of having an owl sent to my father. He has asked me to tell you that you are welcome to stay at Greystones if you wish to and if you need anything at all, you have only to say the word." Gently, almost tentatively, she extended one hand and brought it to rest on his shoulder. "It's times like this that we need our family around us."

Biting his lip, Rey nodded his gratitude as he allowed himself to sink back into his chair. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

"All right, let's get started." Healer Jones, who, a moment before had been speaking to Kingsley Shacklebolt, had moved quietly around her desk and settled in her chair with a weary sigh. After a moment, Rebekah moved to join her, positioning herself carefully upright a step behind. She nodded briefly to her companion.

Healer Jones nodded back. "Well, as most of you know, I'm Hestia Jones and I'm a healer here at St Mungo's," she stated briskly. "And this is Rebekah Goldstein, a professor from the Feral Institute." Her eyes flickered from Rey to the Tonkses and back again. "We've been responsible for the treatment of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin."

"And?" There was an almost despairing eagerness to Andromeda Tonks' half-asked question – her fingers had closed around her silver locket like a vice. "How is my daughter? Will she be all right?"

Hestia's lips pursed as she met the desperate mother's eyes with alarming resignation. "I don't know," she stated candidly. "Tonks…Nymphadora… isn't suffering from conventional spell damage. As I believe Professor Dumbledore explained to you when you arrived, your daughter is suffering the backlash from casting the Imperius curse on a werewolf. Physically, her wounds are relatively minor – some painful bruises, mostly from a fall downstairs earlier in the night – but it's her mind that's taken the hammering. The spirit of a werewolf is a very powerful force and it doesn't appreciate having to share a mind with one human, let alone two. How badly she's been affected depends entirely on how well she managed to shield herself against the blow."

Ted Tonks was almost absently shaking his head and Rey felt a wave of empathic sympathy for the man. He remembered with almost a jolt of shock that it had been their daughter, Auror Tonks, who had guided him safely to Remus at Hogwarts on that terrible night last winter.

"Can't you tell us anything?" The mousy-haired man's voice was tired and vaguely lost. "Hasn't this ever happened before? I know the Imperius curse is hardly an everyday spell but…"

Slightly to Rey's surprise, it was Rebekah who replied. "There are only four known cases of the Imperius curse being cast upon a werewolf," she said, her voice an odd blend of clinical efficiency touched by a hint of compassion. "The first was a German warlock in 1564, trying to restrain his recently bitten son; he was unprepared for the backlash and died instantly. The second was in 1819; a Peruvian witch renowned for practicing the Dark Arts. She regained consciousness after sixteen days but was left unbalanced and insane – she was slain by superstitious Muggles a few weeks later after wreaking havoc in a nearby village and turning their llamas into bullfrogs. The third was during the war with Grindelwald; one of his allies tried to compel a werewolf to do their bidding and suffered the consequences but ironically, he made a full recovery after a few weeks. And the last…" Her lips tightened into a harsh line. "Professor Lancelot Pryke, my predecessor at the Feral Institute and a man who really should have known better. He remained in a coma until his death last year. He never regained consciousness."

"So, I'm afraid there's no way to tell what will happen," Hestia concluded, her voice filled with sorrow. "When it comes to Ton…to Nymphadora, we can only wait and hope."

"Why?" The word seemed to slip from Andromeda's lips unbidden, her eyes shimmering with tears as her husband's hands enclosed her in a comforting grip once more. "Did she know this would happen?"

Rebekah's nod was slow and weary. "I believe so, yes. I witnessed everything and I'm certain that she knew exactly what she was doing. She was trying to save Remus Lupin's soul at the possible cost of her life."

There was a long, heavy silence. Rey found he could only stare blankly at the floor, his mind processing Rebekah's words with painful clarity. _Sweet Merlin. To try and save my son, she did this to herself, she risked her sanity, her life… _

"But why?" Tears were flowing now, slipping down Andromeda's pale cheeks in tiny rivulets. Her eyes flashed briefly to Rey, filled with sudden guilt. "I'm sorry, Mr Lupin. But she's my _only child_. I need to _understand_ why she'd…"

"That is, alas, not important now." Albus' voice quietly intervened, cutting across Felisha who had seemed on the verge of speaking herself. "Let us leave that for Nymphadora and Remus to tell us, as I am sure they will soon be able to do."

For a brief, irrational instant, Rey fought the urge to leap to his feet and shout his frustration in the face of the most powerful wizard in Britain. _How can he say that? How can he be sure? Why should he know so much more about this than I do?_

_This can't be happening. Two young lives, my son's life_…

In spite of his resolve, tears of his own began to well within his eyes. Andromeda Tonks was already sobbing on her shaking husband's shoulder.

"But was it worth the sacrifice?" The deep, slightly broken voice belonged to Shacklebolt. "How is Remus?"

Hestia and Rebekah exchanged a long look. The Healer leaned back in her chair and slowly closed her eyes.

"With Remus, there's good news and bad news," she said, a hint of uncertainty creeping into her tone. "Physically, he's in bad shape but it's all cuts and broken bones - there's nothing that isn't fixable. A few weeks of bed rest and treatment and his body will be as right as rain." She sighed deeply. "But his mind…"

"…Is an uncertainty." Rebekah picked up the thread of the sentence smoothly, though Rey did not miss the flicker behind her eyes that implied that her professional façade was not as solid as she apparently wished to imply.

_So like her father. He always hid his emotions behind a feigned wall of indifference too_…

But Rebekah was speaking once more. "We have established without question that thanks to Miss Tonks' timely curse, the soul consumed by the Dementor was indeed that of the werewolf. Remus Lupin's human soul remains within his body."

For a brief heady instant, a part of the weight of fear that had pressed down upon Rey's mind evaporated into mist_. He's still Remus. Oh Gods, he's still Remus. And that wolf, that bloody wolf that's threatened his mind for thirty-three years is _gone…

"But." The weight plummeted back with a vengeance. "We have no way of establishing exactly what this means for Remus' mind. Excepting Dolph Greymoor earlier today, this is only the second time a werewolf has suffered a Dementor's Kiss. The only point of reference I have to work with is my research on Abraham Kane."

Rey's fingers clutched his cane, fingernails digging deep into the varnished wood. He felt the long, thin fingers of Albus Dumbledore close around his shoulder with a gentle, calming squeeze.

_Why him? Why is it always Kane?_

Rebekah wiped one soft hand across her brow. "Everything I'm about to say is theoretical but I think it's right." Her eyes darted up. "But I'm very tired. I've talked this through with Hestia and Professor Dumbledore but Felisha, apart from me you know the research best. If you have any better thoughts or spot any flaws in my logic…"

"I'll say." Rey felt rather than saw Felisha's quiet step forward. "Of course I will."

"Good." Clasping her hands together in her lap, Rebekah lowered her head, apparently gathering her thoughts. "So," she began carefully. "When Abraham Kane was Kissed by the Dementor, he regressed to a mental age of ten years old – the age that he was bitten and the age he lost control of his mind to become feral."

Rey started violently. In his mind's eye, a dark haired little boy glared at him accusingly. _Kane… Abel… regressed to childhood? Dear Gods_…

Rebekah ran one hand uncomfortably through her dishevelled hair. "Now, at the suggestion of… _another_…" Her eyes flashed inexplicably towards Dumbledore, who offered a strangely sympathetic nod. "I experimented with Memory Enhancing potions to see if any of Kane's later memories would recover. They didn't." Rey's niece took a deep breath. "However, they did succeed in that he did regain some memory of a few moments after being bitten, before he lost his mind completely to the wolf. So being bitten was not the catalyst for the loss of memories to his wolf half. He only lost the memories he had gained after he turned feral." She took a deep breath. "Hence I do not believe that Remus will have lost any memories apart from those of his time spent under the influence of his wolf. I think the vast majority of his human mind and memory remains untouched."

"But that's _good_…" Kingsley Shacklebolt spoke the same uncertain words that were dancing through Rey's mind. "Isn't it? Doesn't that mean he'll be all right?"

Rebekah pursed her lips. "That depends," she said softly. "But you must remember, he has suffered a horrendous trauma. For more than thirty years, he has shared his mind and his body with a werewolf's soul and in order to live with it, he achieved a truce that both could live with. But now one part of that uneasy balance has been brutally torn away, without any chance to prepare or adapt to its absence. He has been a werewolf since early childhood – he has no real memory what it is not to share his mind with a wolf. And the mind does strange things in order to protect itself."

Rey watched with vaguely horrified fascination as a dawning realisation spread across Felisha's face. The blood drained, drop by drop, from her cheeks.

"Oh Merlin," she whispered softly as all eyes in the room turned slowly to her. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Rebekah met her eyes squarely. "Tell me what you think I'm saying."

"That his mind's reset itself." Felisha was staring at the older woman in disbelief. "The part of his memory that shared a life with the wolf can't adapt to the changes; it's had to shut itself down to protect his sanity. And all that leaves on the surface…"

Her voice drifted into nothing, a deep and resonant silence. And Rebekah nodded.

"Leaves _what_?" The words had emerged before Rey was even aware of having spoken. "In the name of pity, will someone please tell me what's _wrong_ with my _son_?"

Rebekah met his eyes. Her expression was grim.

"About an hour ago, when I was sure that his physical condition was stable, I took Remus off his sedation," she replied, her voice low and serious. "I wanted to examine his mental condition. But when I tried to speak with him, he was incoherent, crying, hysterically upset. He didn't recognise me and he had no idea where he was. It wasn't until I realised what he was screaming for that I began to understand." She sighed deeply. "He was calling out for his Mummy and Daddy and he was terrified in case the_ bad man with yellow eyes_ came back and tried to take him away. The last thing he remembers is the night that he was bitten. Uncle Reynard, Remus doesn't remember ever being any older than _three_."

The silence that followed was vast.

Rey stared. His mind, so numb, so sluggish before now, burst into a sudden maelstrom of wild and confused horror. _Three?_ Remus, his full-grown son, believed himself to be _three_?

His brief desperation to start their lives over flooded bitterly back across his mind.

He had wished… He had wanted…

But Dear Gods, _not like this_.

_Remus_.

"How do we get him back?" Once more it was Shacklebolt who moved right to the heart of the matter, breaking the silence with steely tones. "_Can_ we get him back?"

"I believe so." Rebekah appeared rather more assured now that Felisha had reached an identical conclusion to hers, although her concerned eyes remained fixed on her silent uncle. "The key is the Memory Enhancing potions I tried on Kane. If we administer them to him gradually combined with some careful spell-work, I think his memory will be able to rebuild itself. But the process will have to be gradual; apart from the possible side effects of too many doses of potion, we have to give his mind time to adapt to its new state, a few years at a time. I think it would be best to work from the bite forwards and recover approximately three or four years a day until we reach his memory of what happened this morning. He'll have to be monitored, spoken to by people who knew him at the relevant ages – we have to be certain the absence of the wolf isn't skewing his memories as he regains them." Her eyes burrowed pointedly into Rey. "You're the best for this task, uncle Reynard. Will you help me?"

Rey's mind was reeling. Was Rebekah really saying what he thought she was saying? That Remus' mind was going to have to grow up all over again?

_Can I do this? Can he?_

"I'll help." The voice was Felisha's. "I can only do school days but I think I knew him well enough."

"As will I." Albus' voice was strong and firm.

There was a long silence. Rey could feel every eye on the room fix upon him.

_My son. He's still my son. However old he thinks he is. Whether this works or not…_

_He's still Remus. He's still my boy. _

"Uncle Reynard?" Rebekah repeated softly.

Shrugging off Albus' hand with a flick of his shoulder, Rey awkwardly pulled himself to his feet and straightened his robes.

"I would walk through the fires of Hell itself for my son," he said quietly. "Of course I'll help you."

**A/N**: Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: Howling-wolf, Nienna Telrunya, thee-unknown-factor, elka78, MrsTater, anonymous, felixgirl, vieras, Bluer Sky, WhiMAE, Paloma Patil, moo, krumfan, phoenixtear19, Angry Mavis, Rel Fexive, blacklady, Kailin, Snowfall, desertrose89, KnightMara, Anon Reader, Freja Lercke-Falkenborg, MollyCoddles, purebristles, Bardlover, Ella J.W, Lunair, aurelie1, Ecstatic-Future-Novelist-Gurl, morgan, Gyllanalv, Libeku Taganashi, Lady Bracknell, Gilpin, Fmh, ilvena damodred, Camilinha, sylthian, jenny starseed, blondie and Good Morning! What a lovely bunch you are. :)

For anyone still a little bemused, I've stuck a few relevant quotes up along with my reviewer responses on LJ. The links are on my profile as per usual. :)


	47. Pieces 1

**A/N:** This chapter and the next were originally written as one with two scenes (one for Remus, one for Rey) for every day. But at my beta's recommendation, I've split the chapter down into two instead, one for Remus, one for Rey (and a couple of others). Hence these two chapters occur concurrently and anything that seems a bit confusing here should hopefully be explained or elaborated upon next week. :)

_**47: Pieces: Part One**_

_I want my Mummy!_

Three-year-old Remus didn't like this place, really didn't like it, oh no, not at all. The walls were all dull and white and horrible and the bed was all lumpy and the sheets were all scratchy and it smelled like one of Mummy's medicines, all herb-y and potion-y and foul. Where was he? Why wasn't he at home with his own bed and his own toys and books and where was Barks? Barks was soft and cuddly and he liked to hold him as he slept but he wasn't here and he should be here and where was he?

And he felt all wrong. He wanted to go home and see Mummy and Daddy and hear them tell him that the nasty man who'd dragged him off was gone away for good…

A shudder passed through his body. The nasty man. At least he wasn't here, with his horrid yellow eyes and his sharp fingers and horrible growls. Remus could remember clearly his terror as the nasty man had hauled him through the woods and hit him and shouted. And then he had turned into a monster and chased him and chased him and chased him and then…

_I want my Mummy! I want my Daddy!_

It was no good. He had tried to be strong, tried to be a big boy. But he was in a strange place full of strange people and the nasty man had chased him and he felt funny and everything was all wrong…

Remus started to cry.

He heard the door open but he did not look up, did not want to see what new horrible thing was coming next. Indeed, he did not stir until warm arms embraced him and drew him close, engulfing him in the smell and the feel of someone he knew oh so well.

Daddy! 

With a half-stifled cry, Remus buried himself into his Daddy's shoulder, clutching at his robes as the fears and frustrations so vivid in his memory finally overwhelmed him. But Daddy was here now. He was safe.

"Shhhh…" Daddy's voice, so soft, so reassuring. "It's all right, son. Everything's going to be all right."

"But… nasty man… it smells… it's all wrong!" The words emerged from between hiccupping sobs. "I want _home_!"

"I know you do, I know." Daddy's voice sounded oddly creaky. "And you will soon, I promise. We're going to make you better just as quick as we can."

Remus sniffled loudly, his sobs subsiding slightly as his father's hand patted him gently on the back. "Take me home?"

Daddy's fingers tightened against him. "Not yet, Remus, no."

Remus buried his nose into the folds of his Daddy's robe. "Barks?" he asked, more hopefully. "I want Barks."

Daddy's head came to rest softly on top of his son's. "I'll see what I can do."

And then, in spite of all that had happened with the nasty man and the strange place, Remus felt much better.

Daddy always made things right.

-----------------

"How is he?"

Rey glanced up at Rebekah as he pulled the door to his son's room closed behind him, before running one hand wearily through his silver hair.

"He's sleeping," he replied with a nod, fighting the urge to find a quiet corner in which to curl up in and do precisely the same. "He was very upset when I first arrived but I think I've calmed him down."

Rebekah fingered the vial of a pale pink potion that rested within her palms. "But did he seem normal?" she pressed. "Much as he was before?"

Rey permitted himself an incredulous snort. "As normal as one would expect of a thirty-seven year old man with the mind of a traumatised three-year-old. He knows something's wrong and he wants to go home." He allowed himself a brief flicker of a smile. "But there's no doubt he's Remus. He asked me to get Barks."

Rebekah's brow furrowed with confusion. "Barks? That doesn't sound very normal to…"

The laugh the emerged from his lips surprised even Rey. "It was his favourite toy," he explained, his fond smile tinged with a hint of sadness. "A stuffed collie his Muggle grandfather gave him for his third birthday. He wouldn't recognise it as it is now of course since he hugged all the fur off it years ago and half the stuffing's leaked out; honestly, you've never seen a more woebegone looking thing in your life. But he's still got it in his room in a drawer somewhere. He couldn't bear to throw it away."

A gentle smile flickered across Rebekah's features. "Mine was a teddy bear called Lord Flufflebottom," she informed him matter-of-factly. "He's on top of my wardrobe."

Rey smiled for a moment before seriousness weighed him down once more. "Is it time for the first dose?"

Rebekah's smile died in turn as her eyes darted to the vial in her hand. "It is. If this works according to plan, he'll receive one dose a day and that should advance his memory by approximately three years at a time. In about eleven days, we'll be ready to bring him back to the present."

Rey nodded quietly. There wasn't much else to say.

Quietly, Rebekah reached over and opened the door. Bracing himself, Rey stepped inside.

"Remus," he said gently. "I'm afraid it's time to take some medicine…"

**--------------------**

**Day One**

Six-year-old Remus frowned in confusion as he stared at his father's face.

"Daddy?" he said curiously. "What happened to your hair?"

Daddy pulled a face as he reached up and yanked at a lock of his now silver hair with an expression of distinct resignation.

"It was a hex, Remus," he said, an odd note underlying his tone. "Just a hex. Don't worry yourself about it."

Remus giggled slightly. "Did Mummy do it? She said she'd get you back for leaving that dead hinkypunk in her best cauldron."

His father's smile was oddly forced. "I suppose you could say that she did," he offered quietly.

"She always says you'll turn her grey. Not the other way round!"

"That's very true, son."

Remus sat back against his pillows, brow creasing thoughtfully. "Daddy? When's Mummy coming? I miss her."

To Remus' confusion, a look of obscure pain flashed across his father's face. "Yes, Remus," he murmured softly. "I miss her too."

**------------------**

**Day Two**

Nine-year-old Remus pulled a face. "But we're so _close_. Just for an hour or two?"

But Dad was already shaking his head. "Remus, I'm sorry, but you can't leave the hospital, let alone go to Diagon Alley. You're not well, son. You have to stay here."

"I feel fine!" At his father's pointed looked, Remus sighed. "All right, I do feel funny. But I'll be good and they won't know what I am if we don't say so! I might find someone to play with, even make some friends!" His head dropped wearily. "I love you and Mum and I love all the books and the toys you've given me. But sometimes I just want to play with _real_ people!"

To his surprise, Dad closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he fingered his cane, just as he always did when he was anxious. "You're right," he said quietly. "We should have let you go out more. It was wrong of us to keep you so isolated."

Remus' eyes widened. This was a new confession. "Really?" he breathed, sudden hope blossoming in his heart. "So once I'm out of hospital…?"

His father smiled gently. "Once you're out of hospital," he said with a strange edge of sincerity. "Everything will be different."

Remus beamed broadly. "It'll be nice to have friends."

The returning smile was warm. "Oh, don't worry, you'll have lots of friends. The best friends a ma… a _boy _could have. Once you get to Hogwarts…"

Remus' face fell instantly. "But that's two whole years away! If I get to go at all…" he added disconsolately. "Headmaster Dippet is still saying no every time we…"

His father's hand came to rest gently against his shoulder. "Trust me, son," he declared quietly. "You'll get to go. And it'll be the best time of your life."

**---------------------**

**Day Three**

Twelve-year-old Remus bit his lip as he stared at the quiet form of his headmaster. "They know, Professor. I'm sure they do."

Professor Dumbledore sighed. "And that's what's been worrying you so much?"

Remus nodded quietly. "They'll hate me," he whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Remus, I know that is not true."

"It is." Absently, Remus tightened his fingers around the edge of his blanket. "Sirius gave me the strangest look in Defence Against the Dark Arts when Professor Taggart started describing the effects of a werewolf attack. Last week I saw James checking out a book on werewolves from the library and he looked at me like I'd caught him using an _Unforgivable_. And when we were talking about moon cycles in Astronomy, Peter started edging away from me…"

"Remus, I am quite sure that…"

"I'm going to have to leave, aren't I?" Eyes downcast, Remus anxiously rubbed his thumbs up and down the seams of his sheets. "Once they know, they won't want to be my friends anymore; who'd want to share their dormitory with a werewolf? They'll tell everyone and I'll have to leave and I'll never have a single friend ever again…" He shook his head morbidly. "I didn't even last a year…"

"Remus." Soft, but firm, Dumbledore's voice finally managed to bring a halt to his student's fearful ramblings. "You won't have to leave."

Remus slowly raised his head. "But…"

The headmaster of Hogwarts smiled, his blue eyes twinkling with a strange mixture of conviction and nostalgic sadness. "Have a little faith in your friends, young man. I think you'll find they'll return the favour."

**-------------------**

**Day Four**

Fifteen-year-old Remus frowned as he stared at his friend.

"James?" he inquired softly. "What did you do to your eyes?"

Adjusting his rather battered looking glasses with flash of a smile, James ran one hand through his scruffy hair as though he had just spotting Lily Evans through the window. "It was Sirius," he offered with a slightly odd laugh. "He hexed them. He told me if I was going to see the world through Lil…through _Evans_ coloured glasses, I might as well do it properly."

Remus chuckled "That's _very _Sirius."

James' smile was fond but tinged with a strange sadness that Remus didn't quite understand. "Isn't it just?"

Remus smiled as he leaned back to rest his head against the headboard. "Is Sirius coming too?"

To his surprise, James almost seemed to wince. "No," he declared, somewhat hurriedly and then almost as an after-though added "Detention."

Remus raised an incredulous eyebrow. "And not you too? That's unusual. What about Peter?"

James' eyes darkened so suddenly that Remus had control a sudden urge to draw himself away. The response was brusque and oddly harsh.

"Peter's tied up," he said shortly. "He won't be coming either."

There was no doubt about it; James was _really_ not himself. Remus leaned forward, hugging his knees as he stared at his friend in concern.

"James, is everything all right?" he asked softly. "Only you really don't seem to be your usual self today."

To his surprise, James suddenly laughed, shrugging slightly as he sat back in his seat. "Well, you know," he exclaimed suddenly. "That's kind of your fault."

Remus frowned in bewilderment. "Mine?"

"Yep." James grinned, a sudden infectious expression that was far more familiar. "After all, I still haven't caught up on my sleep from the last full moon."

"Last…" Remus blinked. "What?"

Surprise flickered across James' face. "You know… the four of us out on a moonlit stroll?" He lowered his voice confidentially, his tone warm with enthusiasm. "Come on, Moony. This is Prongs. You know what I'm talking about."

It was the strangest feeling. James was right, he did know, for he clearly remembered the day that he had first been introduced to his friend's three alter egos, he remembered the plans they had made for full moon nights, the discussion about their adventures afterwards. But yet when his memory touched on the nights themselves…

A void. Nothing but a black, empty, disconcerting void tinged with an edge of indefinable loss.

"Moony." James' voice cut into his introspection. "You do _remember _those night, don't you?"

Remus slowly began to shake his head. "That's just the thing, James," he replied quietly. "I don't think I do."

**-----------------------**

**Day Five**

Eighteen-year-old Remus blushed.

"I…." He stammered, his cheeks burning with what felt like the fire of several hundred volcanoes. "It's… I mean… thanks for coming, I…"

"Remus." Felisha raised her hands with a warm smile. "Look, I already spilled aging potion over myself today. Don't make this day any worse by making me smack some sense into you. Just _forget_ about the Prefect's Bathroom. It was _two years ago_. Don't lets risk a good friendship over a stupid embarrassment." To Remus' surprise, she pulled a slight face.

"Not _again _anyway," she muttered softly.

**----------------**

**Day Six**

Twenty-one-year old Remus dropped his head into his hands, a maelstrom of fury, sorrow and despair wreaking havoc in the confused confines of his mind.

"They're all dead," he whispered softly, his fingers clutching at his scalp so tightly it seemed they would draw blood. "All dead but Sirius and he's the one who _should_ be…"

Old fingers, thin and frail but surprisingly strong, reached forwards to prise his hands away from fragile skin before damage could be done. But Remus did not, could not look up.

He could not bear to.

"Remus," Albus Dumbledore's voice echoed softly in the small room. "I know it seems impossible now. But believe me when I tell you it will be _all right_."

"But James, Lily, Peter… And poor little Harry, packed off to those Muggles…" He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to curl in corner and die quietly just to be rid of this pain. Transformations were pinpricks beside it.

"But dwelling like this will do you no good." He felt his old headmaster's hand rest gently against his shoulder. "You will do yourself harm if you continue this. Do you think your friends would want that?"

"I don't know what they'd want. I can't ask them. They're _dead_."

Dumbledore's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Remus, you cannot afford to do this. You risk losing yourself." There was a long empty pause. "As you almost did on November the second…"

It was like a blow to the stomach but yet… What did he mean? November the second had been a terrible night; he had sat alone drowning his sorrows in alcohol, growing woozier and woozier until…

Until he woke the next morning to find his parents hovering over him, their expressions filled with agony. And they had said…

_No_.

"Remus." Dumbledore's voice intruded once more upon his thoughts. "What do you remember about that night?

Remember, remember, what did he remember? Drinking and drinking, drinking too much and then vague flashes of Moody, of Dumbledore, a fleeting sense of fear and utter horror…

But nothing solid. Nothing he could pin down. But what they'd said afterwards….

"They said I'd gone feral." The words emerged mechanically, disbelievingly. "But I _can't _have done. I don't _remember_."

Slowly, gently, a finger intruded on his line of sight, catching his chin and forcing his eyes up to meet the steely blue of his headmaster. And he smiled.

"That may be so," he said quietly. "But don't concern yourself, Remus. That is all most definitely in the past."

**-----------------------**

**Day Seven**

Twenty-four-year old Remus frowned.

"It's just the strangest thing, Dad," he continued, gazing absently up at the ceiling as he sighed. "The last thing I remember is going to sleep in a hostel in Hammerfest. And then suddenly I wake up in St Mungo's! It's like I apparated in my sleep except I know that's imp…"

"_Gotcha_!"

Slowly, wearily and with deep reservation, Remus turned his head towards the window where his father had been standing a moment before. And as he saw the grin of triumph plastered on his father's face as he peered into a paper cup clasped securely beneath one hand, a very strong feeling that he didn't want to know overwhelmed him.

"Dare I ask what you're doing?" he ventured dryly.

Reynard's grin spread to alarming proportions. "If you want, son. But it's nothing you need to worry about."

**------------------**

**Day Eight**

Twenty-seven-year old Remus stared.

"Dad, I just lost another job," he stated incredulously. "I'm destitute, unemployed and in hospital. And you've brought me a _beetle_?"

"It's a very _unique_ beetle." With a flourish, Reynard deposited a large glass jar down on his bedside table. Inside, hunched down on what looked very much like a broken green writing quill, was indeed a fat beetle with strange markings, almost like glasses, around its antennae. "A young lady called Hermione Granger told me how to get hold of it; a lovely girl, very _informative_. And you don't have to worry – I've soundproofed the glass. Not a whimper gets through this!"

He tapped the glass blithely with the tip of his cane, causing it to wobble. The beetle inside jumped violently and scurried in a flash into its den of quill.

Remus could only blink in disbelief. _It's finally happened, just like Mum always says. He's gone completely round the twist..._ "Yes, because that rowdy beetle partying will keep me awake until all hours," he drawled dryly. "They're almost as bad as those bagpipe-playing midges from the Scottish highlands…"

His father regarded him sternly. "That isn't why I did it, Remus. Honestly, what do you think I am? It doesn't matter if you can hear her! But I had to make sure that _she_ can't hear _you_."

It was at that point that Remus decided that there could be no doubt about it. His father had definitely gone senile.

**------------------------**

**Day Nine**

Thirty-year-old Remus smiled through his blush.

"This really is such a surprise, Leish," he exclaimed with cheerful awkwardness. "I mean it's been so long!"

Felisha smiled in return as she enfolded his hand in hers, causing his blush to deepen threefold. "Oh, it's not really that long," she declared with a strange air of sincerity. "But we always got on so well, Remus and I've been meaning to look you up for a long time. And then when I heard you were in hospital…" She gestured to the flowers and the bar of Honeydukes Best she had deposited on his bedside earlier. "I wanted to come and see you."

Remus' smile spread. "That's really nice. Thank you."

"No problem." Felisha squeezed his hand again, provoking yet more blushing. "After all, I wouldn't want a silly thing like teenage embarrassment to get in the way of what I know will be a wonderful friendship…"

**-------------------------**

**Day Ten**

Thirty-three-year old Remus laughed.

"No, honestly, Albus!" he exclaimed. "I really am enjoying being a teacher. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you giving me this chance. And to teach Harry…" He met the headmaster's fond smile with one of his own. "He's a wonderful boy. James and Lily would be so proud."

"Indeed they would." Albus nodded with a broad smile. "And he certainly seems fond of you."

A flicker of doubt rushed through Remus' mind. "Do you think I should have told him?" he asked suddenly. "That I knew his parents?"

Albus' eyes twinkled. "I think it is best to wait for now."

"I am looking forward to getting back to work though."

"I know, Remus." Albus patted his arm with a nod. "And we're looking forward to having you."

**-----------------------**

**Day Eleven**

"This is it."

Rey stared blankly for a moment at the little pink vial nestled carefully within Rebekah's hands. Such a small thing. But if this worked…

"He's seemed fine." The words were spoken as much for his own reassurance as anyone's. "All the way through. He's been himself, just with… _gaps_."

Rebekah's hand rested gently against his wrist. "I know. The outlook's very positive. But we have to remember, that Kiss was a very traumatic experience and there's no telling what effect the recollection of it will have. We just have to hope that…"

"Professor Goldstein!"

The cry drew the instant attention of both uncle and niece – turning sharply, Rey found himself staring at one of the young apprentice healers from the Spell Damage wards.

"What is it?" Rebekah's query was sharp.

The young man breathed deeply. "Have you seen Healer Jones? She's not in her office."

Rey saw Rebekah's brow furrow as a cold fear touched him. _No, surely not, not now_. _That just wouldn't be fair…_

"She's in the tearoom on her break." The tone of Rebekah's voice implied similar thoughts had descended upon her. "Why, what's the matter?"

The young man pulled a face. "I think someone had better come. It's Miss Tonks…"

**A/N**: Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: Girl Who Writes, anonymous, morgan, thee-unknown-factor, vieras, Lucy in the Sky, felixgirl, Paloma Patil, elka78, mariyana, moo, jenny starseed, snowfall, Howling-wolf, krumfan, merlinssister, Lunair, Rel Fexive, mo, MollyCoddles, Potter's Muse, KellySquared, Gyllenalv, Lady Bracknell, MrsTater, aurelie1, Jazz, purebristles, vefa, Gilpin, RubyLinkle, Good Morning, Bardlover, eris86, kailin, Eleclya111 and Leonew! Bless you all:)

As per usual, review responses can be found on my livejournal. The link is on my profile. :)


	48. Pieces 2

**A/N**: Well ladies and gents, we're almost there. The second last chapter and the previous chapter as seen from the other side. The chapter is also partly my way of tying a few loose ends up in a way that avoid the ten chapter epic that was my attempt to wrap up Oblivious...;)

_**48: Pieces: Part Two**_

It was not the easiest ten days of Reynard Lupin's life. But he did not forget to whom he owed his son's life.

Every day, between visits to his son, he asked after Nymphadora Tonks.

But every day the answer was the same.

-------------

**Day One**

"You're sure you don't mind?"

Rolphe Lupin smiled at the tentative tone of his usually forthright brother's voice. "Of course I don't mind, Rey. I wouldn't have invited you if I did."

Rey's fingers tightened around his cane as his eyes raked around the walls of his childhood bedroom. In looks it had not altered much, the same varnished wooden panels and ancient green wallpaper, the same heavy furniture and rickety four-poster bed. If it hadn't been for the gaping emptiness of the shelves and the absence of the ratty old basket that had belonged to his pet Crup Sniggers, Rey would have half-suspected he had stepped back in time.

"You haven't changed much in here." The words spilled out almost unintentionally. "After our… argument, I would have thought…"

Rolphe sighed deeply. "You were still my brother. And this was…_is_ still your room. I wasn't my place to change anything."

For a moment, Rey closed his eyes, breathing in the almost forgotten scent of his youth, of a time before Remus, before Diana, before he had known of the trials and tribulations that lay over long years ahead.

"I really appreciate this," he said softly. "Winter Hollow feels so much emptier, knowing Remus is in hospital. And of course he keeps asking about his mummy and whenever I'm there…"

He felt his brother's fingers close slowly upon his shoulder. Gently, they squeezed.

"You know, it took me three years to go back into that corner of the meadow where Randolph and Megara died," he said softly. "For a while, I was on the verge of the selling the house, it hurt so much to remember. But there had been so much change for the girls already and in spite of what had happened, they loved it here so much…" He sighed again. "It was still home. I think it always will be and it deserved a chance for better times, another chance to flourish. It may be stones and mortar, but it meant too much for me to turn away and let it crumble. And Rey…" The fingers tightened still further. "Greystones is your home too and your family is here to help you. For as long as you need us." There was a long pause. "Even forever. If that's what you want."

_Forever?_

Blinking, Rey stared once more into his old room. It was his past and yet, downstairs he could hear children playing, the barking of Ruffles, Ruth's laughter, so different, an old home renewed. Winter Hollow was filled with memories of Diana, of Remus, but these days very little more.

He loved them dearly. But Diana was gone. And Remus, provided he recovered, would, as always, have a life of his own.

Winter Hollow, as long as he lived there, would be a place of ghosts. It deserved more.

Perhaps it was time to move on. And if Remus truly was to be well again…

He smiled, softly, uncertainly, the pain and warmth of memory and present mingling as one. "Thank you, Rolphe," he replied quietly. "I'll bear that in mind."

And on the fourth floor of St Mungo's hospital, Nymphadora Tonks slept on.

------------

**Day Two**

"_Werewolf Rebellion at Feral Institute! _My goodness!"

Cup of tea only halfway to his lips, Rey froze. And he wasn't the only one.

Until that moment, the breakfast table at Greystones had proved as lively an affair as a family gathering. Ruth's three children had chattered, bounced and giggled their way into the dining room, flinging themselves into their seats and delving into the bacon, sausage and eggs provided with a gusto unseemly at a morning hour. With rather more decorum, Ruth and her husband Edmund had settled down a moment later, making good humoured if mostly ineffectual efforts to make little Marion eat her tomatoes, to persuade young Tobias not to flick his brown sauce at portraits that scolded him for his table manners and to convince their eldest, Elinor that perhaps eating one's breakfast with a cheerfully wagging Scottie dog on one's lap was not the best idea. Thalia had chattered incessantly, filling any brief and fleeting silence with talk of nothing and everything at once as she bustled back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room, pausing only occasionally to step around the family's house elf. Ruffles, once he had been shoed off Elinor's lap, proceeded to make his presence felt elsewhere, snuffling under the table and nibbling at toes and robe hems until he was granted a pat on the head or a titbit. And at the head of the table, Rolphe had watched over them all with a fond and tolerant smile.

But the smile was missing now.

As he lowered his cup tersely to the saucer, Rey could not tell whether Thalia, her head now buried firmly in the Daily Prophet, had simply not noticed the sudden silence or was entirely unable to recognise it. Whichever was the case, she continued to read out snippets of the sensational and utterly inaccurate front page that had brought the Lupin breakfast to a standstill.

"Vicious werewolves running riot… attacks on the staff…locked in a chamber…kept for a full moon snack, good grief! If not for the prompt actions of one brave young Auror, many lives would have been lost… Nymphella Tonks is now critically injured in hospital… According to Arcadius Croll, the Institute's Chief Medical Officer, bad management can be blamed… pointed out that the rebellion was apparently instigated after the arrival of newly arrested inmate, controversial Hogwarts professor Remus Lupin…" Her voice trailed away into positively unnatural silence. "Oh dear," she said at length, her voice rife with bewilderment. "That doesn't sound like what Rebekah told us at all…"

Across the table, the suddenly motionless Ruth met her uncle's eyes. She frowned.

"No," she replied darkly. "It doesn't. And I know who I believe…"

Thalia's nose wrinkled anxiously. "But if it's in the Prophet…"

"It's rubbish!" With a sweep of his hand, Rolphe snatched the newspaper away from his wife, his eyes burrowing into the headlines. "They all but accused my daughter and my nephew of… of…" He shook the paper violently. "Who wrote this drivel?"

But that was not a question that Rey even needed to consider. His fingers closed around his cane with an audible snap.

"Let me guess," he drawled grimly, his tone all but spilling over with tightly suppressed rage. "Rita Skeeter."

Unaware of headlines, of lies and of misunderstandings, Nymphadora Tonks slept on.

Day Three 

Courtroom Ten.

Harry Potter stared blankly at the grimy door in front of him, trying not to listen to the low buzz of conversation and occasional shocks gasps that rippled out from beyond the dark, stained wood. The last time he had been here, arriving at this door, rushing helter-skelter though it, he had come to learn of his fate in the matter of his expulsion from Hogwarts. But now, standing here, staring, watching, waiting, things were very different.

Now he was testifying against somebody else.

Hermione had told him that he ought to think through his testimony, get the ideas straight in his head – she'd even recommended a couple of Muggle books on crime and law and an illustrated text recording famous cases brought before the Wizengamot. But Harry didn't want to think about it, didn't want to stand there and dwell on all the terrible things he'd done, all the damage he'd caused; the facts were ingrained on his memory. And the last thing he needed was to stand there remembering so much that pained him and then walk into the packed courtroom upset. That would just be _embarrassing_ and no use to anyone…

_It can't be much longer. It just can't. I want to get on with it. At least last time they didn't keep me standing around. They changed the time to make me _late,_ but I didn't have to just wait here and_…

He was thinking about this too much. He needed to focus on something else…

Professor Lupin.

His mind darted back to early that morning, to the quiet conversation he had shared with Professor Lupin's father, Reynard. It had seemed such a good idea at the time, suggesting that he visit Lupin and pretend to be James Potter in order to try and establish just how much Moony remembered of his full moon adventures with Messrs Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. But in hindsight, Harry was beginning to wonder – did he really know enough about his father and his friends' time at school to pull it off? Would he really be able to fool someone who'd lived those events, someone who was reliving them _now_?

But blessedly, there was no more time to think. With a heavy clunk, the iron lock released and the door creaked open.

"Calling Harry Potter!" An officious little man in heavy robes declared, apparently oblivious or uncaring of the fact that there was only one person standing before him. "Harry Potter to the Wizengamot!"

Squaring his shoulders grimly, Harry nodded his head and walked briskly forwards into the courtroom. Far below, in the chamber's centre, his wrists firmly bound by heavy chains, Peter Pettigrew stared up at him with weary terror.

And oblivious to courts and trials and terrified Death Eaters, Nymphadora Tonks slept on.

----------------

**Day Four**

"I hope you don't mind me coming."

Andromeda Tonks shook her head slowly, her long, dark hair now combed to neat perfection, her robes tidy, one hand still clasped around the silver locket at her neck. The paleness of her features and hollowed eyes implied strongly that she had spent as much time failing to sleep as Rey had.

"It's fine, Mr Lupin… Reynard," she corrected at his slightly raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry, I'm…"

"Having trouble sleeping?" With a slight groan, Rey lowered himself gently into the empty chair at the foot of the bed, absently flicking aside a beetle that had settled itself upon the wooden armrest, having presumably flown in via the wide open window nearby. "Join the club."

A fleeting smile darted over Andromeda's features. "Ted's at home right now, trying to rest. I think he's resorted to potions." She shook her head slightly, dark hair washing across her eyes. "I've never liked using those."

Reynard stared at the woman for a moment, the lost look in her eyes, the despair, the bone-weary exhaustion. It was painfully familiar.

"At least you have each other," he offered quietly. "That must be a help."

Andromeda sighed. "What we see of each other," she muttered wearily. She reached down and squeezed her daughter's hand between her palms. "We've been taking it in turns to sit with Nymphadora. We don't want her to be on her own."

After a moment's hesitation, Rey allowed his eyes to be drawn to the young woman lying unconscious in the bed. He sighed.

He had met Nymphadora Tonks many times now and each occasion had seen her brighter than the last. The first time she had been an Auror, in her professional robes with a crown of white spikes, a compassionate young woman who had guided him through the chaos of the Hogsmeade attack to reach his severely injured son at Hogwarts. But he had come to know her better during Remus' stay in the Hospital Wing, appearing frequently with a rush of cheerfulness and new and bolder hairstyle. They had crossed paths again once or twice since and again, her every look had required a double take.

But not today.

He had never seen her so _colourless_. Her hair was lank and mousy-brown, a reflection of her father's thinning dome that was presumably natural. Her face was so pale as to be almost white, her lips bloodless, her eyes closed. But for the slight rise and fall of her chest, she was motionless.

All to save his son's life. He owed her so much.

"How is she?" It seemed so inadequate a question but he had little else to ask.

Andromeda forced a smile. "Healer Jones tells me that her breathing stabilised – they think that's a good sign. And Ted swears he saw her little finger twitch yesterday." Her lip quivered slightly as her fingers tightened around the locket once more. "I love her so much," she whispered softly. "She was my life when she was a child." Her eyes rose slowly, tiredly, to meet his. "My family are pure-blood, Reynard, fanatically so, some would say. When I married a Muggle-born, well…." She pulled a face. "To say they cut me off is barely the half of it. There was no way back; I knew that and I made my choice just the same. Ted and Nymphadora were all the family I had left after that and they became all that mattered to me."

Rey softly bit his lip. "I know that feeling. My wife and I were in the same boat, blood-wise. My brother and I only reconciled this year. We hadn't spoken in decades."

Andromeda's smile was bitter. "Reconcile. My sisters would kill me as soon as look at me. And no, I'm _not_ exaggerating." Her fingers traced the edges of the locket once more. "They gave me this," she murmured absently. "It was a present on my sixteenth birthday; a silver locket with a lock from each of our hair inside. It's the only thing they ever gave me that I kept." Her fingers tightened. "I've got three locks of hair inside it now. But two of them aren't my sister's. They're Ted's…" She breathed deeply. "…And Nymphadora's. I don't _understand_!" She burst out suddenly. "Why should they be out there free and my daughter lying in hospital? Death Eaters, the pair of them, and married to Death Eaters! Narcissa's brat is fit and well, lording it at Hogwarts while my little girl…"

Her voice trailed away into sobs. Gently, and with as much reassurance as he could muster, Rey laid one hand against Andromeda Tonks' arm. "She'll be all right, you know," he told the exhausted mother quietly. "If there's any justice in the world, a good deed such as hers won't see her punished."

Andromeda pressed her lips together as tears glistened gently in her hollowed eyes.

"That's the trouble, Reynard" she replied, her voice aching with deep pain. "After all I've seen my family get away with, I'm not sure if there is any justice in the world anymore."

For Nymphadora Tonks still slept.

--------------------

**Day Five**

"I'm going to kill her. Painfully. I used to be an expert exterminator after all, so thinking up a gruesome death really shouldn't be a problem..."

Slowly, deliberately, Reynard Lupin lifted that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet and tore it gracefully in two. The right half, containing the third page report, a substantial dissertation on the evils of Remus Lupin – which carried distinctly unsubtle overtones of _I told you so -_ and his possible collaboration with Auror Tonks whose powerful Death Eater links that noble reporter had herself recently exposed, fluttered unceremoniously to the ground. With an almost studied nonchalance, Rey pinned the spinning pages beneath the tip of his cane and ground them against the floor. The other half he balled into a wad and then, with a simple, wordless incantation, set on fire. The report on the ground ignited a moment later and exploded into ashes.

"Rita Skeeter is a vicious cow." There was no arguing with that and Hermione Granger's tone brooked no opposition in any case. Rey had left Greystones early that morning and had not glanced beyond the front page, which of course was dominated by the trial of Peter Pettigrew. It had not been until he had arrived at St Mungo's and encountered Hermione, fresh from a visit to Miss Tonks, waving the paper and muttering furiously about _that bloody Skeeter woman _and_ spreading lies about Professor Lupin_ _and Tonks_ that Rey had learned that his son's name, and now his saviour's too, had once again been dragged through the mud.

_The bloody Skeeter woman indeed! I should have jammed my cane so far into that nostril that the other end came out of her_…

"What I want to know," Hermione's voice cut sharply into Reynard's musings, "…is how she thinks she'll get away with it! She _knows_ that I know about her _bugging _but she's still doing it! She has to be! She hasn't been seen anywhere _near_ the hospital or anyone who works here so how else could she have such precise information on Tonks' injuries?" Her brow creased darkly. "She has to be around here somewhere. I should never have let her out of that _jar_…"

"Jar?" Against the backdrop of imagining Rita Skeeter buried up to her neck in a field full of Fire Crabs or dangling by her ankles over a pit full of Hairy MacBoons, it took a moment for the word to sink in. "Wait a minute. What do you mean, _jar_?"

Slowly, Hermione's eyebrows rose. A smile spread quietly across her face.

"You know," she said suddenly. "I think I may have an idea. But I'll need an _expert exterminator_." She drew herself up. "Mr Lupin. Would you like to help me put a stop to Rita Skeeter's lies?"

Rey was not certain that it would have been possible to jam an iota more sincerity into his voice. "_Absolutely_."

Hermione grinned. It was a surprisingly wicked expression.

"Well, in that case," she said softly. "I think there's something you should know…"

And unaware of newspapers, of mud flinging and plans in the making, Nymphadora Tonks slept on.

---------------

**Day Six**

If she had currently been in possession of something at least resembling a human mouth, Rita Skeeter would have smiled. It would have been a slow smile, a smarmy smile, a smile rich in the self-satisfaction of a reporter on the trail of sensational story that would not only do her painstakingly re-established reputation no harm at all, but would also bring great humiliation to a man who had once thrust a cane up her nostril. But since her lack of lips made the issue irrelevant, Rita settled simply for twitching her antennae and ducking out of sight under the broad leaves of a conveniently placed hospital pot plant.

This was going to be _very_ satisfying.

"I'm afraid it's true."

Reynard Lupin. That self-righteous, cane-wielding old loony. Oh, she could almost see the headlines: _The Man Who Raised A Monster; A Profile of Reynard Lupin, Moulder of a Menace._ (Moulder, was that a word? Oh what the heck, it was now anyway…) _Reynard Lupin, seventy-something (oh whatever, he's old), is man unfit to raise a normal child, let alone a potential vicious killer. His violent tendencies, to which this humble reporter can personally attest after suffering a shocking and unprovoked assault upon her person on the grounds of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry…_

"They really think his mind is gone?"

Aha. Now _she _was speaking.

Little Miss Perfect herself. How gloriously ironic that it should be Hermione Granger that Lupin was talking to. How much sweeter it made the moment!

_Miss Prissy, too-smart-for-her-age, looked sad and downcast as she discussed her dangerous teacher's condition with Mr "Monster-Breeder" Lupin. Could it be that she had been Confunded by her deceitful professor or was she just plain stupid?_

"I just can't imagine Professor Lupin like that." Little Miss Perfect was shaking her head. "You really have to feed him out of a bowl on the floor?"

Lupin nodded grimly. "He's just like an animal. He refuses to put his robes on and he goes berserk if we try and close the window. He seems to need the fresh air." He sighed deeply. "All we can do is try and keep him calm and sedate him when we can – he's at his worst in the mornings. But Hermione – you can't tell _anyone else_ about this. I don't know what I'd do if word got out that my son is…" He broke off abruptly, dropping his face into his hands as he stifled a hiccupping sob. Biting her lip, Miss Prissy placed a hand on his shoulder as she turned and lead him away into a small waiting room nearby. The door pushed gently shut behind them.

Rita could barely contain herself. Remus Lupin turned into the animal he was inside!

_A fitting fate for the beast that would be man, the creature that endangered our children and stirred up a vicious werewolf rebellion at the Feral Institute. This reporter can exclusively reveal that Remus Lupin, who-cares-how-old, has finally succumbed to the bestial instincts that made him so dangerous. Reduced to grubbing naked on the floor for scraps and howling like the animal he is, the former Professor Lupin is now interned in a secure room at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. But it safe to have such a creature roaming amongst our sick and infirm? Surely, for the safety of other helpless and more deserving patients, a cell in Azkaban would be…_

Twitching her antennae frantically, Rita crawled out from under her leaf and launched herself away. She had to get a look at him! An open window on the second floor shouldn't make him too hard to find…

Tomorrow morning would do it. A quick trip up to the window while transformed, just to be sure, and then back to the office to get a photographer and her Quick Quotes quill. A vehement quote from Reynard Lupin, a few snaps of his savage son…

Oh what a story this would make!

_Rita Skeeter, attractive, blonde and youthful, smiles charmingly as she accepts the Order of Merlin for journalistic services to the wizarding world from the Minister of Magic himself_…

------------

It was only when he was quite certain that the door was firmly shut that Reynard Lupin allowed himself to release the laugh he had been desperately stifling for more than a minute.

"Do you reckon she fell for it?" he asked with a grin.

Hermione's returning smile was broad. "Hook, line and sinker."

But heedless of traps half-set and lies forestalled, Nymphadora Tonks slept on.

--------------

**Day Seven**

Rey was quick to contact Hermione Granger regarding the catch he had gleefully made on his son's windowsill. She suggested an excellent spell for an unbreakable, soundproofed jar.

Cocooned in an unbreakable silence all her own, Nymphadora Tonks slept on.

-----------

**Day Eight**

"He didn't want her." With an air of regret, Reynard handed over the jar containing Rita the beetle to Hermione, muttering under his breath as he released the silencing charm from the reporter's glass prison. "I was thinking about giving her to my menagerie instead. I'm sure my Kappa would find her a wonderful plaything…"

Two nervous antennae emerged from beneath the broken quill.

Barely suppressing a grin of her own, Hermione took the jar and examined it thoughtfully. "I don't know. I think she might get boring after a while, being _so_ predictable," she mused pensively. "Maybe Crookshanks would like her. After all, he _loves_ spiders. He chews on them all day long…"

With the jar, the beetle went frantic.

But resting peacefully, Nymphadora Tonks slept on.

-----------

**Day Nine**

"They've issued an arrest warrant for _Snape_?"

It was the incredulous tone of Hestia Jones' voice that caught Reynard's instant attention. Moving along the hospital corridor towards his son's room, he rounded the corner to find the Healer deep in conversation with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The Auror had just shrugged. "What choice was there? Pettigrew came right out and said he was a spy for You-Know-Who and that he knew all about the plans for the Institute months ago. Dawlish and Proudfoot were halfway to Hogwarts the moment his name left the little rats' tongue."

Hestia's lips pursed in concern. "Is it true? I mean I know he's a cantankerous git but Dumbledore seemed so _sure _about him…"

Kingsley shook his head. "I don't know. But it doesn't bear thinking about when he knows so much about the Order. I guess we'll find out at his trial."

But Severus Snape did not come to trial. By that night, the Evening Prophet had announced that the Potions Master of Hogwarts had vanished.

But unaware of traitors, flights and betrayals, Nymphadora Tonks slept on.

------------

**Day Ten**

It was Rolphe who broke the news. His younger brother, worn by time just as he was, had appeared, pale faced, at the breakfast table, quieting Thalia's prattle about the benefits of fresh fruit in the morning with a single look. And then, silently, he had handed Reynard the newspaper.

The headline had left no room for doubt.

_YOU DIRTY RAT! PETER PETTIGREW FOUND GUILTY!_

And in the article below lay his sentence. For though the Ministry had one lone Dementor left under their control, they did not intend to use it. Peter Pettigrew was considered too valuable a source of information on You-Know-Who.

He was sentenced to imprisonment in Azkaban's Maximum Security solitary wing, locked away in a tightly warded chamber accessible only via portkey or a sealed shaft from above. There he would spend the rest of his natural life.

It was a room not even a rat could crawl out of.

But oblivious to sentences, to justice finally done, Nymphadora Tonks slept on.

-----------

**Day Eleven**

Hestia Jones scrambled to grab the rail of the stairs as she fought to keep her balance. Untangling her foot from within the folds of her robes, she hauled herself upright and completed the final few steps down towards the double doors at a more restrained pace. She was no use to anyone lying at the foot of the staircase with a broken neck. Besides, that was Tonks' trick…

Tonks…

_Oh let this be good, please let her be okay_…

Mrs Tonks was standing outside her daughter's room. Her shaking hands were gripping her bag like a lifeline.

Taking a deep breath, Hestia brushed passed her and moved towards the room beyond. But what Nymphadora Tonks would she find there? Awake or asleep, sane or mad, herself or lost?

Good questions all. She could only hope that the answers would be the ones so many sought.

_Please. Oh please_…

And then, her fingers stiffly crossed, Hestia stepped inside.

And stopped. And stared. And gasped.

And then, loud and shocked and disbelieving, she simply exclaimed "_Tonks!_"

**A/N:** Many thanks to my lovely reviewers this week: vieras, Jump Highly, felixgirl, MrsTater, anonymous, elka78, Gilpin, krumfan, MollyCoddles, thee-unknown-factor, aurelie1, Lady Bracknell, WMG, dogmoon183, Freja, Camilinha, Lunair, Paloma from Nova Scotia, Hithere, Rel Fexive, jenny starseed, NaginiFay, morgan, phoenixtear19, Fmh, Sugarannie, Conn JS1, Gyllenalv, id, moo, Eleclya111, purebristles, RubyLinkle, Mandalen, Potter's Muse, KellySquared, elupin17, Jazz, Kailin, eris86, Bardlover, LupinLover99, melz, Jello, sylthian and Good Morning! Bless you all for dropping by. :)

Regarding Snape... I know I said I was trying to stay on the fence with him, but as several readers pointed out to me, I blew that slightly by having him in on the scheme. However since my own feelings on him remain undecided, you can draw your own conclusions from his fate. Did he flee back to Voldemort because he was a traitor to the Order or did he flee from Voldemort because he was a traitor to the Death Eaters? Is he pretending to flee back to Voldemort in order to keep his cover as an Order spy or pretending to pretend to flee back to Voldemort to keep his cover as a spy against Dumbledore? I leave it up to you. ;)

People may also wonder why I have been so ahem lenient on Peter. But I ask you this – if you were a guilt-ridden coward desperate for forgiveness and hating yourself for what you'd done, which would be worse? A quick release into oblivion or soulessness or a lifetime alone with nothing but your own guilt and self-loathing for company?

Responses can be found as usual on my LJ. The link is on my profile. :)


	49. Awakenings

**A/N:** Well then. Here we are. The final chapter of Imperius. I would like to take this moment to thank every reader who has stuck with me through many, many hideous Cliffies of Doom and to reassure you all – there will be no more cliffhangers in this fic. ;)

_**49: Awakenings**_

_I feel wrong_.

Hollow.

It was the only way he could define it. There was an absence, an emptiness that echoed like a chasm within him, something missing, something gone and lost forever more. He struggled desperately to focus, to think, to remember and pin down the void inside but his memories seemed vague, unfocussed, spewing out detached, almost dream-like images of himself in hospital over and over and over. And he was not alone there; Albus Dumbledore smiled at him softly, Felisha laughed, James (_James?_) with Harry's eyes (_or was it Harry with James' face?_) and then Dad waved a beetle at him and smiled inexplicably as his son reached the conclusion that either he or his father had finally gone mad…

But somehow, these memories didn't seem to matter. It was what had come before…

_The Institute_.

_Peter. _

_Dementor_.

_Slimy hands gripping his face, lifting his weak and helpless body, the parting maw closing down upon him like a vast, inescapable abyss, and terror, such terror as he had never felt before…_

"_Imperio!"_

_Her voice. No, Tonks, no, no, n…_

_Happiness. A vague, hazy detachment flooded through him, swamping his mind, swallowing his conscious thoughts in one soft gulp. He could feel something else, something hard-edged, vicious and triumphant roar within him, roar past him to a surface unreachable to him now but he could not fight it, could not stop it, could not do anything but drift, drift, drift_…

_And then the quiet world tore apart._

_A rip. A tear. A terrible wrench against his mind, pain such as he had never known rampaging through body and soul as he felt himself, shake and shudder, hands clutching at his face, fingers raking at his hair as he battled to surface from the gaping abyss that had opened up within him…_

Hollow.

_Alone. Horribly, terribly alone, alone and empty as he had never been before, falling, tumbling, his mind screaming as his memories twisted, contorted and in places tore away, leaving absence, pieces, strange coldness and a nothing, an unbearable empty, empty nothing…_

_I can't, I can't, I can't, too quick, too cold, too much…_

_And then… And then… And then_…

"Remus! _Remus!_"

_Dad?_

His eyes snapped open.

Lost in the swell of memories, he had not felt himself sit up, not felt his own fingers as they pressed into his cheeks, grasping at the fading scars left by the Dementor's soulless Kiss. He had not even felt his father's hands against his back or Rebekah Goldstein's fingers as they grabbed his shoulders and shook him viciously awake.

_Rebekah!_

She hated him! She was running the Institute, planning to Kiss the souls of the Residents away, she was…

A memory, ragged, damaged, torn and dream-like, tugged at the back of his mind. Dolph Greymoor, the Imperius curse, Rebekah under his control…

_Did I dream that? Was it real? Was it…?_

"Remus? Son?"

A gentle hand closed around his own, drawing it away from his face. Remus looked up into his father's concerned eyes.

"Remus," he repeated softly, with a hint of a gentle smile. "It's all right."

_No it isn't, it isn't, it really isn't_…

It was difficult to breathe, to focus, to think, the horrifying image of a Dementor's looming mouth twisting over and over through his mind. It had Kissed him. He had felt those awful hands grasp him, felt the deathly chill as it sucked at his soul and tried to consume all that he was. But how could he still be talking, how could he still be here when…?

What in the name of Merlin had _happened_ to him?

He struggled to articulate. "I remember… being Kissed and being in hospital, more than once and feeling strange and… and not remembering everything but I didn't understand what was happening and I don't…" He shuddered, his eyes rising to fix upon his father's face with an almost desperate plea. "Dad, I'm so _confused_."

His father smiled and almost instinctively, an old, child-like surge of reassurance rippled through his veins. He could always depend on his dad.

"I know you're confused, Remus," he said softly. "And I know this must be terribly strange for you." He glanced once at Rebekah, who nodded solemnly. "But if you just calm down, I'll do my best to explain. Do you remember why I had to Obliviate you the night that you were first bitten?"

A memory surfaced, his father's tired face in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, relating a family secret hitherto not revealed. Remus nodded wearily. "My mind… it couldn't take the trauma of what had happened."

Reynard clasped his son's hand once more. "You remember being Kissed?" Remus' shudder was answer enough. "Well, son, the same sort of thing happened again. Except this time your mind reset itself. To _infancy_."

"To…_what?_" For a moment, Remus could only stare. But then suddenly the earlier images surged back in a rush, his father grey-haired before his time, James and Harry mixed together, Felisha babbling about aging solution…

"Infancy?" he repeated incredulously.

His father nodded solemnly once more. "But we brought you back up to date using Memory Enhancing Potion – three years a day for eleven days. And speaking of which, here." Remus had not even realised his father had risen until the older man pressed a small glass of water into his hands. "I know that Memory Enhancer isn't the nicest tasting thing in the world and you've been taking a lot of it recently. Drink this down."

In all honestly, Remus hadn't even noticed the strange taste in his mouth – he'd had a few other things on his mind. Tentatively, he took a gentle sip and then paused, staring into the shifting, refracting depths of the water as his thoughts slowly settled down. His mind felt not dissimilar to a Swiss cheese that had been dragged against a grater, his memories of the events of the previous night (_had it been the previous night? It felt like it but yet his dad had said eleven days had passed him by…_) oddly distorted, vivid images of running through the darkness in his lupine form tangled in with formless, shifting recollections of roaming the corridors as a human being.

_That's not right. That can't be right_…

"Remus?" The soft touch against his shoulder was Rebekah's. Her gaze was filled with compassion.

_Compassion? Rebekah? And since when has she called me…?_

_Imperius curse_.

"You were under the Imperius curse." The words escaped his lips unbidden. "Weren't you?"

Rebekah nodded slowly. "I was. As were _you_. And that's the only reason you're still here talking to me."

_What?_

Remus shook his head, groggy, sluggish thoughts surfacing to prod at his brain and negate his cousin's ridiculous statement. "No," he murmured at once. "No, that's not right. You can't cast the Imperius curse on a were…"

"_Imperio!"_

His memory roared. The world froze.

The glass was gone from his fingers; he heard his father gasp, saw Rebekah start backwards, felt the sudden spread of damp coldness across the sheets around his legs, but he did not jerk away, did not even care as his mind fixed intensely on one thought and one alone.

_Tonks_.

It had not registered. He had not realised.

She'd remembered. She'd put his mind to sleep.

She'd protected him. She'd saved his soul.

By casting the _Imperius_ curse on a _werewolf_.

_Oh no. Oh, sweet Merlin, no!_

"Remus!" His father's voice, scything into his careering thoughts. "Remus, what's wrong?"

"Tonks!" Flinging the wet sheets aside, Remus hauled himself out of bed and leapt to his feet, ignoring as best he could the screaming protests of his freshly healed and over-rested limbs. He felt Rebekah try to grasp his arm, to usher him back to bed, but absently he brushed her aside. "Dad, where's Tonks? What happened to her, where is she?"

And his father's face went pale.

_Oh please no_…

"Is she dead?" The words seemed to chill the air they touched against with impossible despair. _Not that, please, not that, I can't lose her, I can't lose her when I haven't even told her_…

But his father, blessed be, was shaking his head. "Not as far as I know," he offered quietly. "They took her up to the Spell Damage floor, a private room near the Janus Thickey ward. She's alive but she's been unconscious ever since. But Remus…" His tone sent his son's brief wave of hope plummeting down the abyss. "I think something may have happened. About an hour ago, one of the apprentices came down here in a fluster looking for Healer Jones. I tried to find out what was going on but I wasn't able to… _Remus_!"

But Remus was no longer listening.

For he was already moving, barely aware of his father's cries, of Rebekah's hands as he slapped them aside, knowing only that he had to go, had to move, had to find her, had to tell her…

And then he was in the corridor. People stared at him, brief glimpses of shocked faces as he hurtled and lurched his way passed them, hospital robes flapping, bare feet pounding against the cold floor, but he did not notice, did not care, his only thoughts fixed upon a heart-shaped face and the casting of a deadly spell. He found the stairs and threw himself up them, ignoring the frantic beating of his heart, the agonies that pumped through his fragile body at such rapid motion, the rasp of his breath against his throat. By the time he crested the top of the second flight, he was all but staggering and voices from below were drifting into his consciousness, Rebekah, his father, calling his name. But he did not stop. He could not.

With a surge, he pushed the doors to the Spell Damage wards aside, eyes darting, searching for some hint, some clue as to where she was. His gaze alighted on the sign over a nearby doorway.

**Janus Thickey Ward. Long Term Residents. Closed**.

And then, just beyond, a small door, a private room. And written on the board outside in vivid lime green letters one initial and one word…

**N Tonks.**

Remus didn't even hesitate. Rushing forward, he grasped the door handle and pushed his way into the room.

And there she was.

He had never seen her quite so pale. Even after the Death Eater attack, the blood loss she had suffered, he was certain she had never been so utterly washed out, her cheeks hollowed, her eyes closed, her dull, mousy brown hair spread out like a halo across the pillow where she lay. Her breath was slow and steady, a soft rise and fall that rippled the sheets that shrouded her.

Other than that, she was still.

_Tonks. Oh Gods, what have you done? What have _I _done?_

"Remus?"

He recognised the voice as Rebekah's. But he did not turn.

"Could I… have a moment with her?" The words were barely a whisper, his voice hoarse as his fingers grasped the doorframe in the sudden necessity of keeping him upright. Adrenalin, it seemed, could only get a person so far. "Please?"

There was a brief moment of silence. He could almost taste the doubt in the air.

"Remus." The touch on his shoulder was gentle. Pulling his eyes away from Tonks for an instant, Remus found himself staring at into his cousin's eyes once more.

"Here." Something thin and hard was pressed into his hand; glancing down Remus found himself staring at his father's sturdy cane. A ghost of a smile flitted across Rebekah's face. "Uncle Reynard didn't fancy taking the stairs at such a pace," she informed him quietly. "He's heading for the lift. But he thought you might need this more than he does."

Remus smiled softly in return. "Thank you."

And then, leaning heavily against the cane as his body screeched in protest, Remus stepped inside. He heard the door close softly behind him.

For a moment longer he stared at her, the rise and fall of her chest, her pale face, her hidden eyes. Love, painful and bitter, surged with his chest.

_Stupid, stupid girl_. _There's no doubt about it, fate has a sick sense of humour. Why me? Why you? They say love makes the world go around but look at where it's gotten us_…

And then awkwardly, he lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, propping his father's cane up against the bedside table as he reached out and tentatively enfolded her hand within his own.

"Tonks," he whispered. "You _idiot_. You stupid, wonderful _idiot_."

His grip on her hand tightened possessively, the echo of her pulse vibrating against the skin of his fingers. But she did not stir.

"How could you do that?" The words began to tumble more freely now. "How could you do this to yourself? For what? For _me_?" He shook his head slowly. "It wasn't worth it, Tonks. How could I ever be worth this?" Gently, he began to rub his thumb in soft circles across her knuckles. "Your life, your young life… You had so much ahead of you, so much to do, to see, to _feel_. And you risk it all for an old werewolf who's half-stuck in the past? _Stupid_."

Absently, almost instinctively, his right hand rose, reached forwards and stroked two soft fingers down the length of her cheek. His voice, when it came, was hushed, reverent, despairing, a tangle of emotions that refused to come apart.

"Why the _hell _do I love you so much?" he whispered hoarsely.

Gently, he squeezed her hand.

And then, she squeezed _back_.

"Well, that's _flattering_."

Remus froze. His eyes fixed upon her now parted lips and their soft, but humour-filled curl, upon the gentle beat of her eyelids as they stuttered open, upon the sudden grip of her warm fingers against his. And then, she _smiled_.

"As soon as we get out of here," she murmured, her voice a sleepy rasp. "I'm sending you to _charm school_. Is that the best deathbed despair that you can manage? Insults and self-blame?" Unsteadily, her free hand rose and poked him weakly in the arm. "Next time, I expect _compliments_, Lupin, and lots of them. _Honestly_."

Stunned paralysis slipped into shocked disbelief.

"_Tonks?_"

Her still-sleepy dark eyes twinkled. "No, it's the _Tooth Fairy_. I got knocked for six by this moody troll who _really_ wanted to keep his molars and now I have the body of an injured Auror until I can get my wings fixed." A second weak poke followed the first. "Of _course_ it's Tonks. Who were you expecting, the Queen Guinevere of Camelot? Remus, are you sure they fixed your brain up right because you're sounding alarmingly like a six year old right now…"

In Remus' still shocked and addled mind, it took several instants for her words to sink in. "Wait, _what_?" he exclaimed sharply. "How did you know about…?" His eyes widened suddenly. "How _long _have you been awake?"

Tonks emitted a weary chuckle. "A couple of hours. I gave Hestia and poor Mum the fright of their lives when I first came round; apparently I sat bolt upright, stared around with golden eyes and grew feral fangs!" At the look of horror that had crossed his face unbidden, she wrinkled her nose at him. "Oh, calm down! Hestia reckons it was some kind of backlash from the spell and because I'm a Metamorphmagus…well…" She shrugged slightly. "Don't worry, there's no permanent damage. But anyway, once I was properly awake, my first questions were about you so I know what's been going on. If my legs had been up to it, I'd have been down to see you long ago."

Suspicion was carving a niche in Remus' thoughts. "Were you awake when I came in?"

Tonks pursed her lips. "Sort of."

"_Sort of_?"

"I was just dropping off again when I heard your voice." Tonks smiled as she wiggled her shoulders awkwardly against her pillow. "And that perked me right up."

"Then why didn't you _say _something?" Shock was settling into a potent cocktail of utter relief and outright indignation. "I thought you were _dying_! You let me pour my heart out…" He flushed suddenly. _I said I loved her. She heard me say that I was in love with her. Oh Sweet Merlin…_

Poke number three jerked him out of his horrified reverie. "Well, it was hardly a _promising_ beginning," she declared, seemingly livelier now she had shaken away the last vestiges of sleep. "You called me a _stupid idiot_. So I decided to keep my eyes closed to see if it got any better…"

The flush was spreading, unchecked, uncheckable. _She heard me say it. After all I said in Rebekah's office, after pushing her away and making it clear… I am _an idiot. _Oh, this is going to be so much trouble_…

An odd surge of deja-vous rippled through his mind. Just for an instant he caught a glimpse of Tonks' furious face in a ruined room, of her arms wrapping around him, the touch of her lips against his…

_What?_

His memories of that long, long night, tainted by the rise of the wolf; so much of that night was so vague.

But those lips…

They felt so _real_.

A warm, thrilling horror welled up within his chest.

_Did I kiss her? Did I kiss Nymphadora Tonks?_

Tonks' voice cut across his reverie. "Remus? Are you okay?"

He stared at her. Stared at the pale, heart-shaped face, the dark, deep searching eyes, the scrunch of her nose and knew, oh so clearly, that he loved her. But had he…? Had they…?

The question blurted out almost before he had time to think it through. "Have we kissed?"

The silence was echoing.

Tonks' fingers grasped his hand like the limbs of a vice. Her shoulders tensed like rock.

And her eyes…

Her eyes were _dangerous_.

_Maybe it wasn't real. Maybe it was a fantasy, maybe I've offended her_…

"You don't _remember_?"

The tone of her voice stung him like a whiplash, shock, disbelief, pain and hurt all woven together by flickers of anger into a lethal weapon. Her head was shaking slowly, back and forth, back and forth, her eyes wounded, her features stunned. Her gaze burned against his skin like fire.

But a new thought was blazing a trail through his mind, thoughts of another kiss, of consequences he had barely considered in the heat of his fear and confusion.

_I was Kissed by a Dementor. But the Imperius Curse was cast, I was asleep and safe. But my wolf_…

The hollowness. The vagueness of his memory in times stained by a feral touch, the loss of any recollection of full moon nights with his friends…

It had barely registered until now. He had been so caught up in his confusion and his deep concern for Tonks that the truth behind what had happened to him had not triggered in his mind. But now, there it was, stark and clear and staring him full in the face.

The wolf was _gone_.

For a moment, the thought would not solidify. No, there was no way, that couldn't be…

But it was.

The hollowness, the absence he felt inside, the void in his memories… That lurking presence, that malevolent sense of something watching, waiting for one crack, one weakness, once chance to surge in and rip his mind asunder…

It was gone.

He was still a werewolf. Come the next full moon, his body would twist and change and transform just as it always had. Nothing, not even a Dementor's Kiss, could take that fact of his life away. But his mind…

His mind was his own. And from that moment on, it always would be.

Even under the full moon.

He was still a werewolf. But his mind was _free_…

"It's gone." The words had passed his lips before he was even aware of speaking, soft, quiet, barely audible. "The wolf. It's _gone_."

"Remus?" Tonks' eyes, dark and confused, staring at him with a mixture of bewilderment and distress, but he struggled to right himself, struggled to think clearly against the fact that a fundamental truth of his life had been wiped away forever. He heard her voice ripple against his ears, but somehow she sounded so very far away.

"I know," she whispered softly, fingertips skimming briefly, fleetingly across his face. "They told me. And you wouldn't _believe_ how happy it made me, how happy I was for you… But…" Her voice broke off, suddenly edged with shimmering fear. "I didn't think it would mean… Don't you remember the talk we had, everything we decided? Don't you remember our kiss?"

"Barely." Half lost in shock, not concentrating, the word had slipped out before Remus could catch it. It was a mistake.

"_Barely?_" Her voice echoed his but with lashings of fresh pain as she pulled herself unsteadily up to rest against her headboard. "How can you not…? Remus please, we…"

The distress in her tone snapped Remus harshly back into reality. His hands closed around hers once more, desperate to stem the tide of hurt before it flooded her entirely.

"Don't you understand?" he exclaimed, battling to keep down the surge of numb disbelief and sudden, shuddering joy that screamed to be let free. "It's gone, Tonks! Your curse, it worked! When the Dementor Kissed me, it swallowed down my werewolf soul! That's why I can't remember my full moon nights! And you must remember how badly I was being affected by the wolf that night; there were so many other werewolves nearby, not to mention the feral Dementor…It's good that I can't remember, it means…"

"I _kissed your wolf_." Tonks' hurt was spilling into sudden anger, cutting away his enthusiasm with a sudden surge of pain. "Is that what you're saying? That it wasn't you, it was him and you never meant for it to happen…"

"No, Tonks, I…"

"You're going to make excuses now, aren't you?" Her voice was suddenly shaking though whether it was fury or pain that had unbalanced it, Remus could not be certain. "You're going to trot out all those things we talked about and hide behind them all over again because you can't remember what we sorted out! We _fixed_ this, Remus! You agreed! You said you weren't going to push me away anymore…" She took a deep, gasping breath, then another and then again. "I'm not going to let you do it," she declared, her eyes a raging storm but crested by waves of a strange kind of terror. "If I have to throw you into a Pensieve and make you watch what you said, I will! But I can't go through this again, Remus! I can't go through…"

Her voice trailed away. Tears, of despair, of exhaustion, were welling in the corners of her eyes.

And Remus knew what he had to do.

Vague images of her voice demanding answers, of her touch, of her kiss danced within his mind. He had no doubt she was telling the truth. And they truly had reached an agreement, if he truly had exorcised his demons and allowed himself to…

And now he was free, free of the burden of wolfish influence that had weighed down upon his life for thirty-four years. She had set him free.

He loved her. He had almost lost her. But now they were together.

Did anything else really matter?

Gently, tentatively, he reached forwards once more, catching her chin and cupping it softly between his fingers. Her glistening eyes rose to meet his.

And he kissed her.

He felt her hand creep into his hair as her body relaxed into his arms, her lips pressing, exploring and then deepening their tender touch into passion. He could feel it as the tension, the pain, the fury melted out of her like ice in summer sunlight.

And the world faded into nothing but her.

It was some time before he knew anything else.

But at length, her lips were gone. There was one last touch, one last taste, a brief dart forward for a final kiss and then her forehead touched against his, her breath a rasp against his ears. When his eyes slipped open, her softly smiling face filled his vision.

"Remember now?" she breathed quietly.

He smiled. "I think something may be coming back."

Her lips brushed tantalisingly against the corner of his mouth. "Do you need some more reminding?"

In spite of the wonderful warmth surging though his body, Remus forced himself to focus. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Shouldn't you?"

"I wasn't in a coma."

"I wasn't in _infancy_."

"That makes me well rested. I was sent to bed at six."

Tonks snorted. "Prat."

Remus laughed quietly. "Guilty as charged." Softly, tenderly, he stroked his finger down her still pale cheek. "I'd like to see that Pensieve, when you're ready. I want to remember."

Tonks smiled once more. "I'll help you, Remus. I'll help you to remember who you are and what you've done and I know your dad will too." Her lips brushed all too briefly over his. "Trust the people who know you best. Trust the people who love you."

He smiled, smiled with happiness, with contentment and safe in knowledge that all was now right in his world.

"I will," he said softly. "And I do."

_I love her. And I'm free_…

Then, slowly at first, tentatively, but with swelling passion, her lips pressed against his once more. Her arms rose, snaking around his shoulder; he felt his own hands slide softly around her waist. But then the kiss deepened and yet again the world melted away.

"If she's awake, I'll just check her…_ah_. I… _oh_… ummm…right…"

Lost in their kiss, he had not heard the door open, had not heard brisk footsteps as someone entered the room and broke into their moment. But at the awkward exclamation, Tonks' lips pulled away from his, her cheek sliding across his as she leaned forward and dropped her chin against his shoulder, arms tightening across his back. As his head half-turned, he saw that she was grinning.

"Wotcher Hestia," she greeted cheerfully. "Hi Mum, hi Dad. As you can see, I'm awake."

_Her parents. Her parents have entered the room. I was kissing – no, _emphatically _kissing their daughter and they've just…_

Tense, unsure and really rather embarrassed, Remus half made to pull out of the embrace but Tonks' abruptly locked arms forbade the motion. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught sight of a dark-haired lady and a mousey-haired man standing behind Hestia Jones. Both bore distinct resemblances to the young woman wound within his arms

Andromeda Tonks looked rather bewildered, although the light of understanding was dawning noticeably within her eyes. At her side, Ted Tonks was grinning broadly.

However, it was the silver-haired man being supported carefully by his now smiling cousin Rebekah that really got Remus' attention.

Reynard Lupin caught his son's eye. He smiled, softly, joyfully, but with a whisper of nostalgia.

"Ah," he remarked quietly. "I _see_."

Hestia however, still appeared rather flustered at having caught a pair of her Order colleagues locked in a passionate embrace.

"So…" she managed. "You two are…I mean…" She pulled a face at her own inability to articulate. "How _long_ have you two been…together?"

Tonks grinned against Remus' cheek. "Officially? What do you reckon, Remus? About thirty seconds?"

Remus paused in pretend thought. "Thirty-five, I'd say. Maybe even forty or fifty."

"And unofficially…" Remus fought to concentrate on the matter in hand as Tonks' fingertips traced intricate little circles down his spine, her playful tone of voice implying that she knew _exactly_ what she was doing to his blood pressure, "…well, it's hard to say for sure, since I've been in a coma and Remus has been reliving his childhood. But one thing I do know…" One finger rose and stroked sensitively at the fading red mark upon his cheek. "That Dementor may have done its best to kiss his brains out, but I got in there _first_."

The blush was utterly inescapable. Remus just couldn't help himself.

Catching sight of the reddening of his cheeks, Tonks rolled her eyes distinctly. "Oh, in the name of pity, Remus, will you just _relax_? My parents aren't going to bite. Dad, are you planning on beating the love of my life down into a shiny stain on the floor?"

Ted Tonks' grin broadened. "Not unless you ask me to, sweetheart."

Grasping his shoulders deliberately, Tonks began to kneed her fingers into the knots of tension that Remus had barely noticed gathering. "And Mum, were you planning to scream and shout and throw things because he's so terribly unsuitable?"

"Nymphadora." Remus felt Tonks wince vividly against him at Andromeda's use of her dreaded first name. "Is this why you were willing to risk your life? Because you love this man?"

Tonks' fingers stilled, her face abruptly serious. "Yes Mum," she said with surprisingly solemnity, her dark eyes flicking from her mother to Remus but holding the same sincere gaze. "I love him." The corner of one lip curled slightly. "Whether the prat likes it or not."

Remus could feel his own smile growing and spreading as sudden joy bubbled within his heart once more. "The prat likes it. Very much."

He heard Andromeda laugh, a light tinkling sound. "Then I'm delighted."

"And if you were going to look to me for protest." Reynard's voice drifted out from his resting place beside the door. "My son at least should know better. I'm _very_ happy for you. And it's _about time_."

He could feel her arms slipping around him once more, feel the soft whisper of her breath against his cheek.

"There, you see?" she murmured playfully. "I don't mind. My parents don't mind. Your Dad doesn't mind. You have no objections left."

His eyes met hers, catching her gaze and locking it still with his own. "Whoever said I was planning on objecting?"

Reality was fading around him as once more the woman he loved became his world. He leaned forwards…

"Well then." His father's voice skimmed across the edge of his consciousness. "Does anyone else get the feeling that our children would like some privacy?"

There were distant mutterings, the shuffling of feet, the sound of the door pulling close.

But Remus wasn't listening. Because he didn't care.

His lips touched Tonks' once more. Happiness engulfed him, body and newly freed soul.

For at long, long last, all was right within his world.

**THE END**

**A/N:** There we are. All done. I hope you enjoyed that. But honestly, you didn't _really _think I wouldn't end it happily, did you? ;)

I must take this opportunity to offer massive, massive thanks to my beta Chriss who has stuck by me through the trials and tribulations of writing this beast over the last year. Please, all hail the MIGHTY CHRISS CORKSCREW:)

Many people have asked me about my plans for future writing and whether or not this sequel will have a sequel. The answer to the latter, I'm afraid, is no – this is the happy ending so assume that the war is won and Tonks and Remus move into Winter Hollow and live happily ever after. Or split them up. It's up to you. ;) As for my future writing plans – well, to be honest, I am absolutely _exhausted_. Writing these great epics is taking up just too much of my writing time (my poor original novel still isn't ready to send to a publisher yet) and energy and plus the last two fics have bled me dry of big ideas. Hence, I have no plans for any more novel length fics. But does that mean I won't be writing fic anymore? Of course not! I have recent developed a taste for writing one shots for challenges and I have a good back catalogue of those that I will be posting over the coming months. I have also got several short fic ideas that I will write and post if I get the chance. So I won't be vanishing from the face of the fic writing world, I'll just be writing shorter stuff from now on. I hope you'll enjoy those too:)

As I did with Oblivious, I am planning to annotate my original notes for Imperius to show just how much this fic has grown, evolved and lengthened. This will include a plot that I abandoned as too unrealistic that then appeared in HBP and a severe change to the shipping forecast! So keep your eyes open for a unique insight into the roots of this fic in the near future! I'll post it either here as a chapter 50 or link from my profile to LJ. :)

The time has come to offer a final thank you to all of you loyal and lovely reviewers out there. Though this particular list is for chapter 48, I'd like to express my gratitude everyone who's taken the time out to let me know what they think of my writing. Thank you all so very much indeed. May blessings rain down upon you. :) For chapter 48, thanks go to; vieras, id, Adre, felixgirl, elupin17, purebristles, melz, phoenixtear19, Jazzed Up, Vervada, krumfan, Howling-wolf, elka78, Kailin, anonymous, NaginiFay, WMG, aurelie1, Rel Fexive, moo, Good Morning, Bardlover, Delano, KellySquared, morgan, Niham, merlinssister, Chris Widger, Lady Bracknell and Camilinha. You've all helped to make this long slog of story worthwhile:)

Review responses for the previous chapter can be found on my Live Journal – the link is, as ever, on my profile. I will do review responses for the final chapter in a separate LJ post that I will link tomy profile page too.

Thank you all again for taking this journey with Remus, Tonks and me. I hope you all enjoyed the ride. :)


	50. Epilogue & The Imperius Annotations

**A/N:** After much personal deliberation, I have made the decision to reinsert my previous edited out short epilogue into the official body of the story. It's unbetaed but I do think it does round off what is, after all, not primarily a romance, in a more even fashion. I hope this meets with approval. My Annotated story notes can be found underneath it. :)

_**Epilogue**_

The next few weeks proved interesting.

Remus had been the first to admit that he was having difficulty adjusting to life without the wolf. For as long as he could remember, it had been there, lurking, watching, waiting to pounce and to be alone in his own mind, to know that every thought and impulse that he felt was all his own… It was different, to say the least. For the first time, he could draw a line, say to himself and others that this was him and him alone. And although so much of his life, his personality had been shaped by what he was, by what he knew lay inside of him, it did not change the fundamental fact of who he was.

It was really rather reassuring.

But it was not until his first post-Kiss full moon that Remus truly came to terms with the new equilibrium of his life. The transformation itself had been much the same, the familiar wrenching tear of his body as it twisted into its wolfish shape. But in his mind, he was alone. There was no roar of the wolf, no battle, no sense of imminent invasion. Even Wolfsbane had never freed him so completely from his now absent other half. But it was on the morning after, waking with the understanding that the wolf was truly gone, that his mind was truly his own, that Remus became comfortable within his own skin once more.

_I'm me_, he told himself. _I was always me. I just didn't realise it_.

His emotions settled, falling back into familiar patterns. His father and Tonks, once she was well enough, were heaven sent, reminding him of facts he was vague about, helping him to understand how so little could change when so much within was different. His visiting hours were swamped by a sea of faces; Felisha and Avin, armed with invitations to their Christmas wedding, Harry, Ron and Hermione hurrying his return to school. Half of the Order of the Phoenix appeared at one point or another, mostly bearing gifts; Moody came with a foe glass and dire warnings about watching his back in future, Hestia Jones arrived from upstairs with a smile and chocolate and Dedelus Diggle, inexplicably, gave him a hat. Arthur Weasley brought him a banjo, insisting it would be a fine way to pass the time. Molly Weasley brought him a towering vat of soup.

Albus and Minerva's visit brought the news that his classes were covered until the end of term and that they would see him bright and early next September the first. Remus wasn't sure whether to be relieved or sorry.

Kingsley's visit was more solemn. He brought with him a note from Peter Pettigrew.

Remus had stared at it for a long time, scruffy, familiar writing scribbled on Ministry notepaper. His eyes drifted across the three simple words that made up the sum total of the message.

_Please, Remus. Please._

Kingsley offered him the chance to visit Azkaban or send a note in response.

Remus declined.

For this time, he had nothing more to say.

Tonks was released three weeks after she had awoken, well but for occasional weariness that eased away as time flew by. She came to see him every day.

And then, six weeks after the chaos of the Institute had changed his life forever, Remus Lupin returned to Winter Hollow.

And Nymphadora Tonks went with him.

Reynard Lupin was not there. Remus had not known what to say that morning as he stepped into his childhood home only to have his father turn to him and press the keys abruptly into his hand.

"It's yours now, Remus," he had said softly. "Rolphe's invited me to live at Greystones and I've decided to accept." He had smiled fondly. "We all have to go home sometime. And somehow I doubt you'll be living here alone."

And he had been right. His tentative invitation for Tonks to move in had been met with a squeal of joy and a very substantial bout of kissing.

There was no doubt about it. His life was going to be very different from now on…

"Are you sure my hair looks all right?"

Remus smiled fondly as he raked his eyes over the insane mass of bright pink curls that nestled on Tonks' head as they glinted brightly in the glowing light of a glorious summer sun. The gentle breeze that drifted down the lane was ruffling them charmingly.

"It looks _you_," he told her frankly, leaning forward to place a reassuring kiss against her forehead. "And that's fine by me."

He grinned as her eyes burrowed pointedly into his face. "Nicely evasive, Remus. Well done."

"Thank you."

"Git." Her hand glanced off his shoulder with more playfulness than malice, but her eyes had drifted over to the vast grey pillars and elegant iron gates that waited just a few yards ahead of them. "But you do see why I'm nervous, don't you? This is the first time I've met your family…"

Remus shrugged slightly. "I didn't have any problems with yours."

Tonks laughed out loud. "Excuse me, you knew Sirius long before I did! And I had to hold your hand under the table the day we had dinner with my parents!"

"I never said that was because I was nervous."

The second blow was rather more forceful. "You're a git, Remus Lupin."

"I thought we'd already established that."

Tonks shook her head, curls bobbing playfully. "Remind me why I risked my life to save you again?"

Remus grinned outright. "We established that too. Because you're stupid."

"Do you want to walk in there with a bloody nose?"

"Do you want to greet my family for the first time with a bloody fist?"

"I might be willing to make the sacrifice."

But behind the banter and the hopefully fake threats, Remus could tell what feelings truly lingered within those dark eyes. Abandoning his playfulness, he reached out and gently pulled her into his arms, allowing his cheek to rest for a moment against the soft mass of pink that cushioned her head. Her chin burrowed into his shoulder.

"You'll know my father," he offered reassuringly. "And Rebekah, of course."

"Rebekah's coming?" Tonks' voice was muffled against the folds of his robes as she buried her nose into his neck. "I wasn't sure if she'd have time. She's been so busy cleaning house at the Institute…"

"She'd have been less busy if you hadn't demolished her ceiling."

A cold and suddenly much longer nose jabbed sharply against the tender skin of his throat. "That _wasn't me_."

Remus winced slightly at the painful pressure but nonetheless managed a chuckle. "Of course not. But this is a Lupin family gathering; Rebekah wouldn't miss that. And besides, she's finished all the hearings now. It's just a matter of paperwork and logistics."

"What was the verdict?" Tonks' muffled words were somewhat more subdued. "About the residents, I mean."

Remus sighed as he gently tightened his hold. "Obviously, the ferals on Level Six are staying where they are. They're too dangerous to be anywhere else and I agree with that."

"Including Dolph?"

"Especially Dolph."

"And the others?"

"Twelve have been deemed unsafe for release." Remus was proud of the level tone of his voice. _That could have been me. That almost was me. There but for the Grace of God once more…_ "They'll stay in residence in the Institute. The rest have been given parole. They're free to live in the outside world as long as they spend their full moons at the Institute and report in three times a month at the Registry. Felisha's started a group for them to meet and discuss any difficulties they might be having adjusting. She's invited me to come along." He smiled wryly and with not a little hint of guilt. "However, I strongly suspect I'd get lynched on the spot."

He felt Tonks' arms tighten around him. "You can stop that right now, Remus Lupin. You can't help what happened and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you be miserable about it. War or not, you've got a second chance. And I'll make you enjoy it if it _kills us both._"

"That's very reassuring."

"Good." He felt Tonks pull a face against his neck. "And speaking of which…"

Remus chuckled once more. "Tonks' you've got nothing to worry about from my family. Trust me…" His mind darted back to the chaos of his first visit to Greystones, of Rufus' daft humour, Thalia's incessant chattering and Ruth's friendly smile all wrapped up in a house full of rushing children and a slightly batty dog. "You'll fit in just fine."

A heart-shaped face tilted up towards him. "You're sure?"

Softly, he reached down and captured her lips with his. "Utterly," he whispered softly. "I love you. So they'll love you too."

Tonks smiled. Her face brightened like the rising sun.

"Come on." One arm still wrapped snugly around her waist, Remus rested his head against hers and turned her towards the vast and imposing gates. In the distance, across the meadows, Greystones house gleamed invitingly in the beauty of the summer's day. The sound of young Lupins at play echoed on the breeze.

He smiled. She smiled.

And then, together, they pushed open the gates and walked inside.

THE END The Imperius Annotations 

Well, here we go with the Imperius Annotations. You might notice a slightly different approach this time around – rather than writing the story of the creation of this epic fresh, as I did last time, this time I shall be adding notes and annotations to the original typed up story plan preserved as it was just before I started writing this time last year by virtue of the fact I saved it onto a backup CD which I never saved over with the in-progress plot changes. :) The reason for this change in approach is simple – firstly, all by Oblivious notes were scribbled and scraps of paper and not typed and therefore couldn't be annotated online and secondly, I'm hoping it'll be quicker. :)

The bits in normal text are my original notes. The bits in brackets and bolded like **(this)** are my annotations. I tend to use initials a lot for conciseness in my notes but I'll put in a translation if it's needed. :) I hope you enjoy this insight into the twisted way my writing mind works. ;)

------------------------

Sequel IMPERIUS

(My original title was Darkness of the Mind. I dropped it in favour of Imperius because it complimented Oblivious better)

Remus and Rey walking back down to WH **(Winter Hollow)**– find an anxious Moody at the cottage door – tells them they need to come – something…_strange_…has happened… **(my original idea was to carry Imperius on from exactly where Oblivious left off, with Rey and Remus returning from their walk to find Moody waiting with news of what had happened at Kane's Kiss. But the scene was completely redundant and I quite simply couldn't be bothered to write it and liked the intro with Kingsley and the splinch better without it) **CUT to One Month Later – Remus (stands outside for a moment of place he always fervently hoped he'd never see the inside of) **(I do have a tendency to have ideas for thoughts and words for characters to say/think and build a scene around them. You'll see many examples of proto-versions of things that appeared in the fic around here)** arriving at Feral Institute (with Tonks so that she can be taken as being Felisha?) **(You'll notice as the fic goes on – in the original plan Tonks' role was somewhat…smaller… for reasons that will become clear soon!)** for meeting with Rebekah Goldstein, thinking back as led inside about Dumbledore taking him aside and assigning this mission and why and what has happened to Kane.

PROLOGUE– An Auror spy in a seedy bar – overhears a conversation we don't hear – he's horrified – stumbles as tries to get out unseen, spotted and chased – attacked viciously – manages to apparate but splinches – Cut to Tonks perspective - his head and a few other parts appears in Ministry cells in front of Kingsley, Dawlish and Tonks – his parts left behind are being destroyed by pursuers, he manages to gasp out Death eaters- Imperius – werewolves- Feral Institute and then dies… **(in the very, very beginning, the scene in the bar was Remus overhearing Peter but for reasons that shall become clear later, I both shunted Peter's role into secrecy and gave this job to the Aurors. The splinch idea came once Remus had been ruled out – I had intention of doing that to him! – but Dawlish and later Tonks were dropped to leave the scene in Kingsley's capable hands. Right up until writing it was to be Tonks and Kingsley staking out but I decided at the last minute to have one Auror only. I honestly can't remember what made me chose Kingsley over Tonks but I know I had a good reason.)**

PLOTS:

DEMENTOR/KANE – Dementor's kiss had a weird effect on Kane (see this in flashback, Moody waiting for Rey and Remus when they returned from walk to tell them, they come and see)**(again this was cut – it proved unnecessary)** – now locked up and being studied – believed that werewolves may have some kind of soul because feral Kane being ruled by his werewolf half, the Dementor therefore sucked that soul out of him and left the human one, Kane a gibbering wreck with the mind of a ten year old called Abel (still a werewolf changing every month but no wolf behaviour – keeps what's left of human mind)– Dementors cannot consume inhuman souls, the Dementor was consumed by the werewolf soul and collapsed into dust **(Later I changed this to two inhuman souls for dramatic effect)** - AT THE END – Remus uncovered and trapped with a Dementor – perhaps stopped behind (injured?) to hold it off whilst others escape – - nearly knocked out by flood of bad memories as Dementor goes to kiss him (cliffie!) **(As you can see, I knew this one was coming from the start. It was one of three major primary ideas I had for this fic and both of the other two got dropped)** he is put under the Imperius curse and his wolf surfaces – the Dementor eats the wolf soul and falls to dust (whoever casts curse is also thrown backwards and severely injured) – R**(Remus) **VERY ill. **(I was determined that Remus would not just get up, shake his head and say – "Oh Gosh, that stung." I wanted the Kiss to have consequences though in the end I paired down what I had planned as a long illness to the eleven memory scenes)** Later discovers wolf soul is gone – although still agonising transformation, now alone in his body – keeps human mind without wolfsbane at full moon.

COULD – have Dementor locked up as it has been taken over by feral mind (and therefore has a specific grudge against him) **(I never mentioned this possible grudge due to the Dementor have Kane's wolf soul – indeed I admit I forgot all about it until now! But I suppose it could explain why it targeted Remus so specifically in that corridor, hmmm? ;)) **– that's the dementor (being held and researched in same institute?) that gets free in chaos at end and attacks Remus – then when it gets two werewolves inside of it, they fight and the dementor is destroyed! **(I really liked this idea. I still think it's funky…;))**

(say in A/N not a fan of Remus miracle cure fics but this idea would not leave me alone – compromised at still changing but no longer wolf mind)** (I'm not sure if I said this but I had no intention of making the Dementor's Kiss into a miracle cure for werewolves so I knew right from the start that the physical change would still happen as it always had – it was only the mind that was affected)**

LOSE undercover plot (perhaps use another time) **(Ah, the undercover plot. The first of the three original concepts I had for this fic and the first to fall by the wayside in favour of the werewolf conspiracy that later formed the backbone of Imperius. You'll find a summary of the idea I had at the bottom of this plan but basically it was that Remus went undercover with the Death Eaters by pretending to be feral to try and uncover an Order spy. I eventually dropped it because I just couldn't see Remus keeping up a convincing feral act without messing himself up mentally and also I couldn't see him being believed and accepted as a DE under any circumstances. Naturally, I was slightly flabbergasted when a very similar plot then appeared in HBP with the werewolves and Greyback!)**

Instead:

WEREWOLF CONSPIRACY – Dumbledore has received a message saying Voldemort-werewolf-Imperius **(this plan, you might note, has different parts caught at different stages of development. This is because it evolved and changed as I went along but I didn't always change every reference to altered plot. Originally the message came to Dumbledore but then I adapted my by now discarded but sadly missed undercover prologue idea for Peter and Remus in a pub into the Auror scene instead and showed the spy dying first hand)** – then spy died- that's all they know – asks Remus to investigate – it turns out that Rebekah Goldstein (chief werewolf researcher – at the feral institute - senior member of DFRCOMC, Rolphe's daughter) is under Imperius curse (one of assistants is a Polyjuiced or real DE?) **(at this stage I had not written Peter back in)** and being forced to experiment to find ways in which transformed werewolves can be controlled magically – Kissed Kane is the key as he can be imperiused (no wolf to drive it out) but has no wolfish instincts – like Imping a person – so can make wolf do whatever chose but not as naturally vicious (wondering if sucking out the human of a werewolf, make it pure feral and then can it be controlled too or is wolf mind too strong? That's why experiment) – the plan is to create a pack of controllable werewolves to do V's bidding. – POSSIBLE – Remus discovers its Rebekah Imped and who DE handler is but is caught and locked in a secure cell at FI with the other researchers on the verge of full moon and having not yet had his last dose of Wolfsbane (has it with him but DE smashes the vial). **(Boy, did this idea open an epic can of worms…)**

POSSIBLE (BLACKMAIL)– Encounter with Fenris and regulars from the Howling sent there after the bust (by single feral incident rule – as well as the nutters, many perfectly sane werewolves in the Institute!) POSSIBLE – Fenris or Friedrek(?) **(I never did decide if Friedrek the Howling barman was actually a werewolf or not. I still haven't. But I chose Fenris for pathos in the end)** recognises him and "outs" him as having been in the Howling several times. Rebekah threatens to lock him up? Remus explains there for DD (but not the Order, just doing "research") – Rebekah blackmails him (make Rebekah out to be villain – only discover later that she's been controlled the whole time and genuinely did want to help the ferals?) **(I fiddled Rebekah later to make the hard edge at least more of a part of her – I didn't want her to come out from under the curse and suddenly be a puppy-hugging saint because I'd had such fun inventing all her antagonisms and besides her family would have noticed far more)** – perhaps to get him to come to institute on full moon night? Sends an owl threatening to tell Rita Skeeter about his Howling visits if he doesn't come immediately. **(I dropped this and skipped straight to the more potent threat of locking him up as a feral)** (tells DD/Tonks about blackmail?) Remus tells them about this attempt at blackmail and tells Rebekah it won't work – then she turns around and says Friedrek told her of an unreported feral incident in his bar – attacked Kane, eyes distinctly yellow for a moment – and if he turned that easily, how many more times has it happened? Unless he does as she says and tells no one about this, she'll have him locked in the institute for life before he can blink… **(I decided not to make the blackmail anything specific but more of a power game. I couldn't see Remus standing for it otherwise.)**

DISGUISED DEATH EATER – The Death eater on site is Peter Pettigrew polyjuiced as Rebekah's wimpish assistant Cymone. **(There is a pretty pathetic reason for using this name – Cymone is a weirdly spelled version of Simone and it was supposed to be a really, really obscure clue since Jesus' disciple Peter was also called Simon… Yeah, I know. But we authors need our sad little in jokes, thank you…;))** "Cymone" always avoids Remus – Felisha confides that she thinks she has a crush on him! MUST have other suspicious researchers about – OR could a different Death Eater be one of the WEREWOLVES???? Bellatrix a red herring! **(This was the moment that Dolph came into being. As you can see, I was rather proud of that flash of inspiration! Originally the other DE in the place was going to be Bellatrix but I just couldn't see her being sane enough to keep her cover and I decided to try and falsely imply that Bellatrix was Rebekah instead) **Cymone's hair is DYED blonde **(this later changed to red)** (roots show) – real Cymone's hair same colour as Rebekah's. **(Yet another red herring in the making – the origin of the polyjuice hair)**

FELISHA –the return of Felisha Hathaway, a magizoologist and involved in researching Kane's case (– first encounter with her at feral insitute, Remus thinks she's Tonks playing silly buggers until Tonks appears behind him, asking whats up, Remus runs) – developed fascination with werewolves when she worked out he was one (the bathroom incident – she accidentally saw him naked and saw the scar too, worked it out later) Both very embarrassed around each other still because of that but Felisha asks him to help on Kane case, start working together, romance – **(Felisha – the second original idea for this fic – did survive and make it to the page, but not quite in the role I'd originally intended as this little footnote should imply. Yes, it's true; as several people did guess early on, I had originally intended for Felisha to be the romantic interest in this fic. And indeed, when I started writing, that intention had not changed. This is not because I did not enjoy R/T. I did, in spite of a person resolution never to ship anyone – I blame Lady de Mimsy and Fernwithy for writing such quality R/T fic and the characters themselves for independently developing such a fantastic chemistry in Oblivious without any intentional input from me! – but I was absolutely convinced it wouldn't happen in canon and since I try and keep as close to canon as I can in most respects, I'd decided to go OC for the romantic element. But then, while I was writing chapter 6 – indeed, if you read the first few chapters, you'll probably see the gentle setting up for R/F that I was doing! - a little snippit of a book called The Half-Blood Prince came out and completely blew my shipping ideas out of the water. And after a careful rethink, I decided to change the course of my ship and steer towards the new canon and the ship I'd been so fond of anyway. I do feel a bit sorry for Felisha, relegated as she was by one page of a novel from lead romance to friend and romantic red herring but I hope people still found her enjoyable as a character)** Felisha the one to cast the Imperius? - Felisha at some point used as trap for Remus? **(This came from the undercover plot and survived for a while into the new direction too – originally Remus didn't have a great deal to do with the Institute and worked on researching Kane's condition at Felisha's flat instead, which would have led to Felisha being used by her manicial boss to blackmail Remus when Felisha innocently let slip that they were seeing each other. This got dropped though when the idea of reintroducing Fenris occurred.)**

Tonks as best mate, confidant, advisor – go out for drinks and chat – she gives him advice etc. **(This was my original compromise for Tonks – I loved writing them so much as friends and the chemistry they had developed entirely accidentally in Oblivious and since I wasn't going to be able to use her romantically – so I thought – I opted to make her the best friend instead. This was handy as this early chumminess was easily evolvable when I steered my ship on a new course)** We first learn about the Bathroom incident when she goads him into telling her the truth. **(I later changed this to a private confession between Remus and Felisha because Remus refused to talk!)**

Bathroom Incident – Remus bathing naked (had hurt his torso last full moon and trunks rubbed on healing scars) foolishly asked Sirius to stand guard until he was done – but instead Sirius saw Felisha, who he knew Remus had a crush on, pushed her inside and locked the door – Remus doesn't know how much she saw (no bubbles – they were stinging!) as he ducked under, just remembers the look of frozen horror on her face before she managed to turn around – R managed to get out, cover himself with his robe and then they both sat blushing at opposite ends of the room until Lily happened across them the next morning after forcing R's whereabouts from James. Now whenever see each other, all he thinks of is the look on her face, all she thinks of is what she saw! Both blush like mad and can't speak! He thought she was horrified couldn't bear to have it confirmed – she had realised what he was and didn't know what to say or how to bring it up…. **(I have this story written out as a short fic idea. I may even get around to writing it someday, if I can ever work up the nerve to play with the Marauders!)**

The Harry Incident! – Harry arrives at empty GP (left Dursleys in a huff early or Christmas hols? ) and finds werewolf Remus resting by the fire with a plate of sandwiches, a book(?) and music playing, under a yellow Mrs Weasley blanket! Or in his office? **(I'll have to check my notes online because I'm sure I've said but I think this scene might have come from a dream. I loved it so much though I searched for a place to put it. It eventually ended up happening in Remus' Hogwarts office!)**

FAMILY: Rey gets back in contact with Rolphe – awkward – Kane had killed Rolphe's first wife Megara and their son Randolph at their family home in Derbyshire – eventually both Rey and Remus invited back to the old homes in order to meet Rolphe's family – **(Much of this plan was already written when Oblivious was completed and hence I managed to set this subplot up in the epilogue there. I originally invented this idea as a way to bring Rey, a character I loved dearly, into the story somehow, even if it was just as a cameo. But it was completely unconnected to the main plot and I really wanted to find a way to bind it in to the plot somehow. I had already drawn up a Lupin family tree and one day the idea occurred to make one of Rolphe's daughters the head of the Feral Institute trapped under an Imperius curse. This idea not only tied Rey's plot into Imperius, it also made even better sense of the title and gave the Institute a bigger profile. My original choice was the eldest daughter Ruth, but when I happened to look up Rebekah (who was already Anthony's mother long before her role was seriously expanded) in a name dictionary, I realised one definition was "bound, trapped" which seemed rather suitable under the circumstances! So Rebekah became not only the Institute's boss but another one of the author's secret and dodgy name jokes…;)) **(don't know about Kane being relative) **(This changed for necessary reasons later)** – Anthony Goldstein is one of Rolphe's grandsons – first discover Rebekah is Rolphe's daughter when sees picture of her at Rolphe's house when invited over (possibly after she's started blackmailing him) **(I turned this into a proper face to face confrontation. It seemed more fun that way)**.

POSSIBILITY – "Rebekah" kills Kane (he seems to die of natural causes) – Remus thinks its because he killed her mother but in fact it is because he was the DE test subject and it was her fight against the Imperius curse to thwart their research, In fact prompts then to put her aside and take over the facility. **(I was developing quite a taste for red herrings at this stage!)**

POSSIBILITY – Adolphus one of Kane's recruits imprisoned in the Howling raid? **(I scrapped this and made Dolph rather more established in the Institute instead)**

AFTERMATH – Rebekah and hence Rolphe very grateful, Remus recovers, he finally gets up the nerve to ask Leish out! **(Naturally, this was dropped for obvious reasons. For one, Tonks would have gutted him…;))**

NEW CHARACTERS:

Rebekah Goldstein

Felisha Hathaway

Rolphe Lupin and Family

"Cymone"

Other researchers: One male and nasty. (Arcadius Croll)

Zelia Phelan (an enthusiast)

Alexander Aylward (security chief)

Unwin Dempster (prejudiced)

Favian Haskell (quiet scholar)

(The specific characters of the Institute staff came as I wrote them. Croll was based on my hazy idea of the original head of the Institute, a smug, arrogant bastard. He did turn rather Snapey on me entirely by accident and I was going to make him Snape's cousin to explain the similarity but my beta said that made it look like he was intended to be a Snape clone and so I just made them old friends instead. Zelia was supposed to be young and bubbly but somehow she morphed into an older hippie-esque figure when I came to write her. Aylward was intended to a little more talkative but in the end his grimness worked quite well. I had worried I didn't have enough staff but it turned out that there were actually too many, hence Unwin was little more than a grouchy background character and Favian Haskell was abandoned altogether, at least by name. He was probably about though!)

Werewolf Death Eater – Adolphus (allowed around the compound due to Good Behaviour). **(I later expanded this to his being the ombudsman to explain just why on earth even the best behaved werewolf would be allowed to just wander about! My scribbled annotation on my printed notes of this page reads – _Dolph listed in Auror notes as expert caster of Imperius curse_. I did a lot of scribbling on that print-out as ideas came!)**

Ministry Spy – Jago Folke

Fridolf (peaceful wolf)

Ulric (power of the wolf)

Ulmer (fame of the wolf)

Botolph (messenger wolf)

(Ah, yet more name jokes. As you can probably see above, I found a lot of names meaning variations on wolf in my book of names though I never used more than a few of them. But the Institute staff names are also sad private jokes – though Arcadius Croll is a variation on the spelling of a name I saw in real life and knew I had to use, Zelia apparently means "zeal" and Phelan means "wolf" in Irish, Alexander Aylward means "man's defender" and "awesome guardian" which seemed appropriate for the security chief in a werewolf holding area and Unwin Dempster means "nonfriend" and "one who judges". Adolphus Mingan-Moritz, to give Dolph his full name, means "noble wolf" – perhaps not desperately appropriate but still – "gray wolf" and "dark". Folke means "people's guardian" which seemed appropriate for an Auror and Jago? Why, that's just a name I liked…;))

RETURNING CHARACTERS:

Reynard Lupin

Fenris (real name Daniel Arden) **(Yep, this also has hidden meaning – I'm sad like that when it comes to names. Arden means "ardent, fiery, burning with enthusiasm" as reference to his behaviour in The Howling and I chose Daniel as a reference to someone being thrown into a pit of wild beasts, as it were.)**

Abraham Kane/Abel Isaacs

COULD – have Remus outside feral institute first – he and Tonks go inside and Remus considers the events that brought him here…. **(This was expanded upon at the top)**

-Moody and Rey (possibly cut this and have him discuss with Tonks instead

-Pensieve memory of Auror **(I dropped the Pensieve memory because frankly it was something I'd already done and besides they could have just walked over and listened to the conversation they needed to hear and bang! No plot…;))**

-meeting

INSTITUTE LAYOUT **(These were my cheat notes so I could keep track of just what was where, how many people there were and who was wearing what)**

Ground floor – storage and laundry etc

First floor – werewolf transformation cages

Second floor – werewolf living area

Third floor – werewolf sleeping area

Fourth floor – Potions and research labs

Fifth floor – staff offices and archives

Sixth floor – top security prisoners and research subjects

10 support staff including chief caretaker (Dempster) – blue and grey robes

10 security officers (Aylward, Falconer, Selkirk) – red and grey robes

6 researchers (Goldstein, Croll, Hathaway, Phelan, Wrigley and Haskell) – white and grey robes

39 permanent residents and 5 top security prisoners – brown robes

POSSIBLE CHAPTER PLAN **(When I wrote this plan, I thought I was being really, almost excessively generous in how much went into each chapter so as to avoid overwriting. Excuse me while I go and head-butt the wall for a moment…;))**

PROLOGUE (cut this)

Moody meets Rey and Remus as they leave the woods

1: **(I had real trouble with chapter titles in this fic. Most of them I made up when I saw which way the chapter was going rather than planning them out in advance as I did with Oblivious)**

(February) **(This changed to the end of March in the writing. Keeping track of the time of year proved a bugger. I'd lost it completely by the end so if anyone could let me know what time of year it was when the Institute was taken over to judge by my time jumps per chapter, you get a medal. I couldn't do it!)**

Remus and Tonks standing outside the feral institute (describe) **(The Institute, on the exterior at least, is a military base called Fylingdales on the North York Moors. I first spotted the ugly great thing in the distance riding on the very steam railway that often doubles as the Hogwarts express in the films and when I was trying to think of a good location for the Institute, it just sprang to mind!) **Remus considering that this is the last place in the world he ever wanted to be (a werewolf's Azkaban) – Tonks beside him heavily disguised, remarks how friendly it looks, Remus shakes his head – says why is he here? Never wanted to be here – Tonks says he's here because the Order need him to be here – the security of the place is tight, can't just stroll in and ask to look around and he's the only one with an invitation – Remus face hardens, says he hasn't used that invitation for a reason – wanted to put it all behind him and let it rest in peace – he doesn't want to see _him_ again – whatever state he's in – Tonks rubs his arm and says she knows – and that's why Dumbledore and everyone in the Order appreciate so much what he's doing – but this is just too important – they have to find out what Folke knew – if Voldemort (You Know Who) **(This was a reminber to myself. I continually forget that Remus is one of the few people to actually use this name!)** really is up to something in there… - Remus nods, says he knows – it just isn't going to be easy – Tonks nods and they start towards the door as Remus thinks over again the events that had brought him to this place he despises and yet again into the presence of the being that had once been Abraham Kane…

The Aurors mission

Tonks and Kingsley **(I switched this all around, as you can see, opening on a more exciting first hand account of Folke's death and then following with the Remus and Tonks scene and scraping the need for the pensieve, any Order meetings and Remus doing extensive flashing back)**

2:

(do this meeting and the fact the last bit is a pensieve memory as reported speech- Remus thinking about it as he walks down the corridors of institute)

Emerge from pensieve of Kingsley's memory of event (DD, Minerva, Snape, Moody, Kingsley, Tonks and Remus) either GP or Hogwarts – discuss ramifications, what they know, ends with Remus being asked to accept a certain invitation he refused two months before… **(I dropped this chapter completely. I was so proud of myself for saving the length rather than adding it…sigh)**

3: THE FERAL INSTITUTE

1st visit to Feral Institute with "Undine" (Remus introduces Tonks as Undine on spur of the moment – she whispers to him afterwards "I have to hand it to you Remus. I didn't think it was possible to find a first name worse than mine but somehow, you've _found one_.") **(Undine is a name I encountered at work. My colleagues and I came to the consensus that it was one of the worst names in the history of ever. I just had to use it under those circumstances…;))** , meet Rebekah (Rebekah pointedly does not offer to shake hands with Remus), Cymone and a few other researchers, see what has happened to Kane – Kane doesn't see him this first time?- and then comes across Felisha **(This, I very much hasten to add, was a very rough version of a chapter plan. The larger details, such as Kane's child-like madness, and just how Remus bumped into Felisha were expanded upon in later notes that I worked from on a chapter by chapter basis and then mostly deleted as I went, expanding on the detail as I wrote and or ideas came to me. Apart from a few print-outs that are God-knows-where, those, alas, are lost to posterity)**

4: AT THE THREE BROOMSTICKS **(This chapter title was possibly the most mobile. It was attached to four different chapters over the course of the fic!)**

Drink with Tonks, discussing what happened and his history with Felisha.

(also reported speech about reporting in about his findings – asked to go back and scout out the researchers more…) – happens across Harry and co when goes back to Hogwarts – he has overheard some of what he and Tonks saying? Hermione remembers Goldstein book from Oblivious **(this was the origin of Harry and his friends' nosiness regarding Remus' activities, though I brought the invisibility cloak into play to avoid Remus and Tonks looking as though they were discussing Order business where anyone could hear. The old annotation on the printout has Harry snooping as Remus reports to Minerva but the way I chose seemed easier. Also, it was here, as I'm sure you can see, the rot began. By adding Rey into this chapter, it turned into two chapters instead)**

5:

**(The rot expands. I decided to do the chat with Felisha before the visit rather than after and again, it earned its own chapter. Needless to say, I could already see the ominous clouds of doom gathering over my careful planning and boy did they thunder after this…;))** Second visit to FI – talks to many researchers – is seen and taken to be Rey by Kane – Kane imped **(Imperiused)** by Reb and Remus realises he's vulnerable– meet Adolphus and Zelia - talks with Felisha afterwards and agree to try and act like grown ups around each other from now on. **(Gods, this conversation was tough to write. I don't know what it was but I had terrible trouble getting a decent chemistry going between Felisha and Remus. I think I managed okay in the end but this was the last chapter I wrote before HBP struck. In a way, it was rather a relief to turn back to a chemistry I didn't have to work at! And speaking of which, a chapter I wrote not long after after HBP was the Tonks pov "A Little Entertainment" into which I sowed my first hints of the new ship I was sailing. The whole thing was unplanned and mostly off the cuff, since I'd intended to have Tonks report her activities to Remus on the walk back – they ended up having an explanation chat on the train. Indeed, I wrote the chapter "Back and Forth" with Kane taking Remus for Rey before it and then went back to write Tonks' chapter when the reported speech seemed like a cop out. I knew that I would need her pov later – ironically, I didn't end up using it where I'd originally planned, you'll see why further on – and wanted to try it out. It was tough at first after writing as Remus but I think I got the hang of her. :) Oh and the nervous twitch toilet escape was my beta's idea. I just had her asking where the toilet was…;))**

6:

Lesson with the kids (Friday) – Harry reveals he knows something's going on again but Remus puts him off – tells him it really doesn't concern him **(I took this opportunity to insert the scene with Harry bursting in to "rescue" his professor and finding him wolfish, wrapped in a blanket and reading a book. It seemed the right place. :) I carried the Trio's nosiness and chat with Remus into the next chapter. By now, I knew I was doomed!)**

Later, on Sunday at home with Rey, he reveals he has, as asked, made contact with Rolphe – they have both been invited to a family meal in two weeks time.

7:

Third visit to FI **(I hadn't intended to out Rebekah's "motives" for disliking Remus regarding Anthony as I did here in the chapter that became "The Worst Kind of Hypocrite" It was originally planned to happened right at the start, in the second chapter on the way to see Kane, but I quickly realised that was way to soon and cut and pasted the start of that conversation to here, where I expanded it, overly as it turned out, into a new chapter.)**– meet Unwin – **(originally Remus visited the resident's level with Rebekah's permission but in the writing I just couldn't see that happening so I had them sneak in instead. That sneaking grew into the chapter "At The Gate" which was supposed to be a quick interlude into "Cabin Fever" but of course, that didn't work out…;) The hatch I invented literally on the spur of the moment – I knew I would need a laundry hatch to tip Remus down later and establishing it now seemed a nice set up. It was also here where I first had the spur of the moment idea of using Felisha, the rejected love interest, as a possible suspect by delaying her arrival so that she could have been the one to raise the alarm) **encounters Fenris who "outs" him as having been to TH in front of Rebekah **(The other werewolves, including Thor and Censermealia, were on the spot inventions. The name Censermealia was yet another I nicked from work. My beta thought I'd made it up!)** – Felisha asks to meet him elsewhere (suspicious of things)

8: **(The reason for the postponement of the family dinner that appeared here in the chapter I actually ended up calling "At The Three Broomsticks" was that your humble author had messed up her dates regarding the full moon and had to make a hasty correction! The Hermione scene was also an on the spot improvisation when I realised Remus had no way to communicate with Felisha without sending owls and that would have been blatantly obvious for a secret alliance)**

Meets Felisha with Tonks, she tells him her concerns - – Felisha also confides that she's worried something strange is happening here – Rebekah behaving quite oddly lately and also many of the werewolves here don't deserve to be – but daren't say anything… (tease Remus about nicknames?) – Felisha's naked comment! (have a quiet talk and discuss their embarrassment – decide to behave like adults and be friends – silly to be awkward – as leaving Felisha says that from now on she won't look at him and picture him naked – just as a silence falls – everyone stares – felisha goes scarlet and flees leaving a blushing Remus to headbutt the doorframe – Tonks, who was at the bar, taps his shoulder and remarks that that went well…. **(I later shifted this conversation to a private room because frankly a secret meeting shouldn't take place in a bar but I did maintain this embarrassment by giving poor Remus an audience of passing students instead! This is also the time to admit that Felisha's urgent panic at the split of this chapter that became a small cliffie? Ummmm…. When I wrote it, I hadn't a clue what she was panicked about. The chapter was getting too long and I needed a good split. The feral Dementor stuff was an improvisation to cover for myself the next day but it saved a lot of explanations later in the long run!)**

9:

-conversation as walk back

"Why are women so impossible to understand?"

"Thanks."

"You don't count. I don't consider you as a woman."

"You're not helping your case, Lupin."

"I meant you're my friend. You don't confuse me in the same way."

"I'm not sure if that's good or bad."

"Oh, it's good, believe me. Why don't the rest if your gender just say what you mean?"

She ruffles his hair

"Because we wouldn't get to see the adorable looks of confusion on your little faces!"

"I take it back. You are a woman."

"Most of the time anyway. Except when duty compels me to take my drag act on the road."

**(I ended up moving this whole duel to after the family dinner because it seemed a more appropriate time for Remus to be attacked in the evil scheme of things and gave impetus to the raid)** Tonks notices that someone has been watching them in the pub and offers to walk Remus back to the gates (she can apparate from there) **(this conversation ended up being expanded upon and inserted two chapters earlier when I realised that they wouldn't have walked back but were far more likely to just apparate!) **on the way, spot figures watching them, Tonks pretends to trip and whispers in their ear – they are ambushed, big duel – Remus hit with cruciatus, but walks through it - Harry, Ron and Hermione intervene (they were visiting Hagrid) **(I switched this to the Quidditch team – people circling on brooms are more likely to see a battle on the other side of a big wall than those on the ground)** then Hagrid and DD **(Dumbledore)** appear to and the ambushers disapparate – Tonks comments that you always know you are onto something when someone tries to kill you **(Yet another scene that got carried away and ended up being cliffied to compensate. You see, I'm not intentionally evil on the cliffie front, most of them were spur of the moment to cut off an overlong chapter! Originally the lead Death Eater was literally just a random Death Eater but that seemed a bit of a cheat so I made it Dolph in hindsight. But the trouble was – why wouldn't they have seen his beard under the mask? That's when a comment from SnorkackCatcher at COS gave me the idea to make it Aylward under the Imperius and thus it became when I explained it later. I really wanted to give Remus a duel in this fic because if the DoM and HBP prove anything, he must be an awesome dueller to walk out of both fights unscathed. Besides, I wanted to try out my short spells theory and I went playing on an online Latin dictionary to find good curses for him to use. I also never intended for Tonks to get hurt as you can see by the fact she got the quip I later gave to Kingsley but the chapter was running long and yet again I needed a dramatic moment. Plus it made a good catalyst from Remus to notice his feelings for her…)**

10:

The Family Dinner – meets Rolphe and extended family – threatened by Rebekah regarding TH **(The Howling)**– says he is to keep his nose out or she'll have him arrested and locked up in the institute so fast it'll make his head spin…(possibly make this two chapters, one ending of Reb's arrival and the other on news of Kane's Death) **(I was bowing to the inevitable by this stage as you can see. The Lupin family were all mapped on a family tree but their characters came as I wrote them. This chapter is possibly the most fun I had in writing this fic – I loved the creating the Lupins and their little jokes and bickers. Several of them are based on members of my own extended family…;))**

11:

Remus receives word from Felisha that Kane is ill – goes to facility and he dies (**This got bumped so as to end a chapter. As a last hurrah, I gave Kane a little pov scene of his own. He'd been such a great character I couldn't just kill him offstage)** – Felisha discovers he's been poisoned and made to look natural – Remus suspects Rebekah may have done it as revenge – Remus asks Anthony about his mum – he says she didn't come home for Xmas (very unusual) – he's hardly seen her lately **(I scraped the chat with Anthony. Remus had got everything he needed on that front from Ruth)**

12:

**(The duel comes here in the actual fic. The rumours were a humorous interlude I couldn't resist injecting here while Remus was in the hospital wing)** Remus consults with DD and Order – elect to break in and see what they can find out – R and T chosen, over protests of Snape and Moody, also drafts Felisha in to help – she gives them a portkey to take them inside and out in spite of wards – it's used in emergencies by the staff…

13:

They break/portkey in – find Polyjuice ingredients – rush out again… (Felisha says she hasn't seen Rebekah all morning – not like her not to show up… (Tonks has portkey when leave) **(Ah, yes. You might observe a small difference to the way this couple of chapters turned out. Since this was literally all I'd come up with to work with on this chapter so far, I had a good think and decided for excitement's sake to have Remus and Tonks locked in a room for a bit. But what to do with them while they were trapped in there? Well, perhaps a heart to heart, the first open acknowledgement of their feelings? That might be good… These musing turned into "Epiphany" which went far further on the chat about feelings front than I'd intended but knowing Remus was about to be abducted, it occurred to me that just before an enforced separation might be a good time to ratchet up the angst quotient. Originally this chat went even deeper into reasons but my beta said it was too much too soon, so I cut half the conversation and inserted it later in Zelia's lab where I originally intended the first confession leading to first kiss to be)**

12:

Remus takes it back to Hogwarts whilst Tonks goes to brief the Order – gets Snape to confirm it is indeed Polyjuice (he gives R his WB whilst he's there) – both go to find DD only to be told by MM that he isn't there – called to emergency session of WG because BL has been arrested. **(This I actually managed to compress into the next chapter. I'm so proud!)**

13:

MM says they can't afford to attract suspicion – says they'll go to meet the Order after dinner - During Great Hall dinner, Hagrid rushes in saying he tried to stop them – it's one of the FI researchers and WCU members, here with arrest warrant for Remus Lupin – proof that he has been to subversive werewolf club TH on more than one occasion and that have eyewitness proof that had a feral incident whilst there – try to arrest him, M tries to intervene but nothing can do – R taken (see ENDING for later chapter breakdown.) **(I did have fun writing Minerva's rant at the Werewolf Capture Unit men – another one of my beta's fine ideas - but I have to admit, much to my irritation, this chapter was the start of a long difficult period of writing for me. Perhaps it was because I'd planned the long run at the end before the beginning and had such a vivid idea of it that it was hard to live up to; perhaps it was because I was so tired from work and not feeling at my best at the time. But whatever the reason, chapters I had looked forward to writing became a real slog. I very much hope this didn't show in the writing but unfortunately this part of this fic does not raise happy memories of easy writing…:()**

14 – 22 – FINALE CHAPTERS – perhaps have Tonks trapped inside as well? Or involve Harry and the kids – have them go after Remus perhaps and get stuck inside as well? **(This shows you just how much things changed with the ship change and as I wrote. When I first planned this section, it was only Remus and Felisha trapped inside. Indeed Felisha stayed on the raiding party right up until the actually writing of the chapter where they became trapped.)**

ENDING – **(I wrote this as a plot plan like those at the beginning but later transferred it to the chapter plan wholesale. That's why some of the plot repeats itself here)** Remus becomes suspicious after Rebekah tries to blackmail him (perhaps she thinks he's seen a file that he hasn't, or knows something he doesn't – perhaps he tried to bluff information out of her?) – persuades Felisha to sneak him inside the institute (she says hasn't seen Rebekah all morning – not like her not to show up) and breaks into her office. He finds incriminating documents about her Imperius and other illegal control research on werewolves and then finds a vial of polyjuice potion and a clump of hair (Cymone and Rebekah MUST have the same hair colour!) – rushes back to Hogwarts to tell DD – meets Minerva in the entrance hall, asks where DD is, she says hasn't he heard? Bellatrix Lestrange has been arrested – DD has been called to an emergency session of the Wizengamot. Remus accepts this, tells Minerva to get Severus, he has important info when suddenly WCU operatives enter along with one of lesser researchers from Feral Institute (must have a not at all nice one) **(Ah, the beginnings of Croll. I created him to do this job)** – he announces that Remus is under arrest regarding an unrecorded Feral Incident in the werewolf club The Howling (in front of half the school!) – Minerva tries to stall or stop it but nothing they can do, Remus taken away and locked up (the day before full moon – Remus does raid then because won't be expected to work)**(I later changed this to the morning of the full moon because I couldn't believe the Order was the slow to react)** (14) Felisha comes to see him says she doesn't know what's going on – the arrest order is Rebekah's but no one can find her to confirm it – she risks her career to try and sneak him out – has a vial of wolfsbane for him **(I scrapped the wolfsbane to make the impact of the later revelation stronger)** – but before he can drink it, are found by "Cymone" – **(you might notice the lack of Avin here. That's because at this stage he didn't exist. I invented him later, using the young man Falconer I'd made off the cuff in the second chapter, to both give Felisha a link to security and as compensation for taking Remus off her ;))** (15)Felisha tries to persuade Cymone to help them escape and she seems to agree – **(I inserted the Dementor here as yet another chapter splitter cliffie, adapting the chapter slightly to turn Remus' twitchiness into early warning. I also invented the candles because I needed a way to knock a roomful of people out without leaving evidence of a fight!)** takes them to a chute that she says is used for laundry and will take them to laundry room and out – they thank her – **(since Remus knew the chute was suspicious, I changed this later) **are about to climb down when she cries "Accio wands" and shoves them down – they tumble into a confinement cell and the overhead bars clang shut – all the other researchers are locked in the room, including to their shock, a battered and shaken Rebekah **( I was bad at spotting dramatic moments to stop these chapters when I made this plan, wasn't I? Ah well, I got it sorted on the fly…;)) **.who they discover has been held under the Imperius curse apparently by "Cymone" – real Cymone in there too unconscious? She says she did kill Kane – but not as revenge but in a rebellion against the research – he was their only suitable test subject – but her actions prompted them to act sooner. Remus finds his vial of wolfsbane is smashed – he's locked in a room full of people with the moon due to rise in a couple of hours – he's frantic, says before the moon rises, one of them will have to kill him…. (16) Tonks POV **(the Tonks chapter expanded into several Tonks' chapters interspersed with Remus' chapters and I'm glad they did – it gave her a bigger role in the fic and I'm glad of that)**– trying to find out what's happened to Remus – chasing around – at Hogwarts speaks to trio– decides to go up to FI and see what she can find – takes Felisha's portkey -about to go when Harry and co insist they want to come too – Tonks says absolutely not – activates portkey, feels her robes being grabbed and lands in a heap with trio (and Ginny?) **(I dropped Ginny. Way too many cooks about spoiling that broth…)**– lands on portkey and breaks it – charm broken so can't send them back – inside the institute and swarming with DEs – Tonks angry but tells them to say close to her and they set out…(17 Then suddenly a rope slithers down and hear a voice calling them – Tonks! )** (As you might be able to tell from this abrupt cut, the idea of having a Tonks chapter at all was a late addition. Originally she just showed up out of the blue! Also, the idea of Rebekah actually trying to kill Remus at his request was another on the spot invention. I had some good ones, didn't I:)) **Minerva called the Order to say what happened but with Kingsley caught up in the Lestrange case – she came down to see what she could find out only to find the gates locked – snuck around and saw a couple of known DEs outside. She's put in a call for back up but was worried about Remus at FM so knocked out and disguised herself as one of the DEs and snuck in (**this was clearly a pile of pants of an idea. Hence her having the portkey…)**– she overheard a DE saying an "accident" had been arranged for the researchers – the new mad feral brought in today was going to have escaped and killed them all. They all climb out – Trio and Ginny present – Remus asks why the hell they are there, Tonks explains then says something big is going on – place is swarming with DEs – Remus says its more important they get out and wait for backup – gives him Wolfsbane – **(note the anticlimax here. I corrected that somewhat…;))** start to sneak out but then wash of cold – dementors! (**I dropped the Dementors to downstairs. Having them just wander about seemed counterproductive)** – (18)they hide and overhear Cymone and to their astonishment one of the werewolves talking **(I chose to do the reveal on Dolph earlier, since Rebekah would have obviously mentioned it and by doing it through Tonks, it was more dramatic)** - Remus realises what they are planning to do – they are going to feed the ferals that still have human minds to the dementors and then set a controllable werewolf army loose on the wizarding world - (commenting on how it shouldn't be much longer until Cymone's polyjuice wears off – she says I hope so, being a woman has turned him funny! Makes some joke and Remus realises - PETER **(Aha. The big reveal…;) I wasn't sure about writing Peter, he's such a difficult character to get to grips with. I couldn't make him all weasel-ish weed or why would the Marauders have ever been friends with him? But at the same time, he is a coward and a traitor…)**– (19 (have to hold Harry back!) )Felisha says **(By this stage I had swapped Felisha for Rebekah. I was fairly ruthless to poor Felisha in these later stages – her character was originally major back here but ended up kind of fizzling out as Rebekah and Tonks usurped her plot. The problem was I didn't have time or plot left to use her any better. I felt bad but it was necessary and she had been a big help previously after all so it's not like the character was a waste)** there's a magical override on the institute in case of a break out – if they can activate that – nothing and no one will be able to get in or out of the Institute until midday tomorrow – it has a time delay to allow the setter to escape down a passage – they manage to set it off and they and researchers make a run down the passage **(I later made this safety device more of a threat to create a race against time. I strongly suspect in real minutes that the time had elapsed long before I said it did, but what the hell – that's fic!)** – Tonks leading, Felisha at back helping Remus NO WANDS! **(This was to remind myself that their wands had been taken. I'd forgotten Tonks would have hers!) **– almost out when suddenly the change takes hold of Remus – Tonks starts to come back – Remus shouts at her and Felisha to go but the door slams down – he and Felisha sealed inside(when full moon rises building fills with shrieks and howls)…. **(Again… note the tiny, tiny differences. For one, a certain massive angst filled conversation is conspicuously absent. It's present in a few rough annotations on the print-out but originally of course, it was all about Remus and Felisha and Tonks wasn't even inside when the door slammed down, let alone the Trio. It was only at this late stage, writing this scene for real that Felisha got cut and left behind the door – the scene was just too busy already. The reason I waited so long was that she was intended to have something very important to do – a job that I, for angst reasons, switched to Tonks at the last minute. I imagine you can guess what I mean!)** (20)DEs chasing them – have to run, chase in corridors, manage to lock the dementors in a room (with the DEs) but those wolves like Kane that are already vulnerable are set free **(I left the werewolves caged. Death Eaters are not that stupid and the Kiss wouldn't happen until morning anyway) **– not under DE control – rogue DE werewolf hunts them – manage to kill somehow **(Note the quite astonishing vagueness here. This turned out to be quite a pit I had to dig myself out of in terms of working out what actually happened that night! This led to Death Eater battles in a werewolf chamber, Remus and Dolph falling down a lift and Tonks getting buried under a ceiling. I also took Dolph's fate out of their hands to make it more poetic. Not bad for a few really, really vague words!)** – encounter a now himself Peter who turns into a rat and vanishes into the woodwork(21) – chases in corridors survive until morning when Remus changes back, weak and exhausted –only need hold out a few more hours until spell lifts (Felisha finds their wands) but then suddenly Peter appears – tells Remus he's sorry, didn't want to do this – he was always the Marauder that treated him best but has to be done – he unlocks a door, rats and scarpers, out comes Feralised Dementor **(I felt the need to corner Peter rather more for this scene to work. The forgiveness idea is annotated but only came quite late on when I was plotting his motivations)** – Remus too weak to run, tells Felisha to go - The Dementor-Cliffie! **(As you can see, this had loomed large in my mind for some time…;))** (22) Hears cry of Imperius – feels wolf rise as Dementor clamps down, hears Leish scream (**You might observe a slight change of protagonist on the Imperius cursing front – it was Felisha not Tonks but the reasoning for the choice was the same when I wrote this) **– Dementor suddenly reels back and combusts as two wolves fight for dominance, Remus catches a glimpse of Felisha bleeding an unconscious before everything fades out….Shift to perspective of Tonks, finds them both almost dead and dementor remains – catches Peter! Takes them to hospital…..AFTERMATH….:) **(Now, this was where I originally intended my only other Tonks POV to be. But as it turned out, I had to switch to Kingsley!)**

23 – Remus wakes up in hospital – feels strange –told what has happened and though still a ww – wolf mind is gone – Felisha still very ill **(As you can see, a few changes here! The idea of Remus' mind resetting and running through his life three years at a time occurred in bed late on the night before I was intending to write this scene. I forced myself to wake up and scribble down the good idea before it was gone and the next morning I got down to it. Originally, as I said at the time, I wrote it in alternating scenes between Remus and Rey but at my beta's suggestion, I split the two. The Remus scenes stayed almost exactly as they were but I created many new scenes to expand the alternative perspective, including the two scenes at Greystones and the bit from Rita's perspective. The rest had mostly existed before, although I greatly expanded on Harry's scene and the Rita trap. :))**

24 – meets Rolphe and Rebekah properly – sees his father – Felisha still ill **(I always intended to leave Felisha/Tonks in hospital much longer than Remus to really lay on the guilt, but in the end I preferred to have them wake up the same day)**

25 – back at school though F still in hospital – several months maybe – FI been overhauled and examined – Rebekah trying to get things on a proper track– calls in to see F and she comes round – finally asks her out? (**Yes, my intention for Remus and Felisha's romance was that slow moving. By the last chapter, he asks her out. Aren't you glad I switched to Tonks instead? She'd never have put up with such faff and indeed she didn't. When I first switched, their romance was going to wait until the last chapter too. But it just kept advancing forward to Zelia's lab and then "Epiphany" because Tonks just wouldn't have it…;))**

DROPPED: **(And here, finally, is the undercover plot that didn't quite make it…)**

(Opening chapter, (beginning of summer) two figures in an obscure bar, (Remus and Pettigrew but don't say this straight away- only refer to Lupin as the werewolf and don't overtly reveal who he is) Peter approaches Remus, Remus says it took him long enough – was expecting him or one of his kind months ago – Peter admits they've been watching him since Sirius' death and the business with Kane – noticing how he's been spending more and more time in places like this – received intelligence that he's argued and fallen out with other Order members (fed from Snape)– Remus says he's tired of the war, tired of being the good one, tired of behaving and trying to conform to human standards (glint of yellow in his eyes) – wants to do something for himself – Peter says they could help with that – gives him a way to get in touch if he decides and leaves hurriedly – Remus leaves too and meets Tonks outside (no names until now. "Remus Lupin smiled." She asks how Peter was, Remus says "Gullible." (he should be a bit uncomfortable though) **(This scene was the distant inspiration for what became Folke's death. I felt sorry to lose it but it couldn't have fitted anywhere in my new plans)**

UNDERCOVER - Remus tries to go undercover with DEs by pretending to be going feral – starts spending time in obscure bars etc, Snape feeds in info that he's argued with DD and friends a lot and been out of sorts, though hides it well at the school to keep his job – a member of the Order is believed to be under the Imperius curse and feeding info to VD unwillingly – R's job is to find out who but only he and DD know about this part of the mission, everyone else who knows (only Tonks, Snape and Moody who DD believes are all clean) believes just undercover - R chosen because only one who can't be Imperius'ed. (turns out to be false information – are in fact getting info from portrait of Mrs Black who has a second picture at the Malfoys OR Imperiusing Snape and using him as a double agent but wiping his memory of it) Remus also takes wolfsbane on these missions which makes him a bit sick at that time of month but prevents any recurrence of feral incidents under stress.) **(This was the basic summary of what Imperius could have been. It later changed out of all recognition, as I'm sure you noticed, until this plot just didn't have a place. And since HBP, I doubt I'll use it now – parts of it just ran JKR too close again…;))**

**Well there you have it. The story of the Evolution of Imperius from start to finish. I hope you found it interesting and enlightening and once again thanks for reading:)**


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